


The Passing Hero

by gubernaculum



Series: The Namesakes [12]
Category: Highlander: The Series, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1271296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubernaculum/pseuds/gubernaculum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Torchwood works another team member into their ranks. Is he a new addition or a replacement?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. I'm only borrowing everything purely for non-profit and completely recreational purposes. The characters of Miranda Ryan, Joseph Fischer, Henry Fitzroy, and Cameron MacDonald are my own. I have cast them as Zhang Ziyi, Jesse Spencer, Alex Pettyfer, and James McAvoy respectively. This fic is unbeta'd and therefore probably full of grammatical and typographical errors. Writing is purely a hobby for me. I am an American and have attempted to do my own Britpicking so I apologize for any errors there as well. I am just borrowing Highlander concepts and names so it won't line up well with that show's canon. This is also AU for Torchwood as I like to pretend CoE and Miracle Day never happened.
> 
>  
> 
> **Please note that this story takes place _between_ Chapter 28 and 29 of [The Scoundrel (Part 1)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1091434/chapters/2196856).**

Miranda was standing on the Squinty Bridge, staring down the Clyde River. These annual trips to Glasgow were such a nuisance. Archie was growing increasingly eccentric in his old age. Usually, Ianto made these visits but this year, for a reason that no one could determine, Archie had asked to see Miranda. When she'd arrived, Miranda had been surprised that Archie hadn't asked for Jack since the first thing the old Scot had done was to introduce a cheerful young man with bright ginger curls named Lewis Reid. Archie and Lewis then spent hours dragging Miranda through the halls of Torchwood Two pointing out this and that. Lewis could give Ianto Jones a run for his money when it came to Torchwood trivia. The young man had set out afternoon tea for the veteran Torchwood operatives, while she and Archie chatted about 'the good old days' as Archie called them. Miranda had seen the slight tremor to Archie's gnarled hands and he occasionally asked a few questions she'd answered only a few moments ago. 

It was clearly time for Archie to step down. For years, Miranda had wondered who would take over Torchwood Two, not that there was much to take over. Sometime around 1950, someone had decided that duplicate reports should be filed off-site and Torchwood Two was born. It was nothing more than a dusty archive hall. Archie was no more than a caretaker and librarian who had now found his own replacement, saving Miranda and Jack the nuisance. The young man was quite suited for the work and eager to please. Miranda had left Torchwood Two optimistic it would be left in capable hands once Archie officially retired. She'd have Archie forward all the particulars to Three for the usual background check and, of course, Fish would have to begin surveillance. All the t's would have to be crossed and the i's dotted, but while Archie was getting on in years, the man was far from incompetent. He would never be casual with his life's work. Miranda trusted his judgement. 

She had a lot of time before her train left for Cardiff so she'd decided to walk. As she wandered the streets of Glasgow, Miranda felt a bit sad. She'd known Archie in his prime and he'd been a force back then; eccentric, yes, but still, a force. Despite her and Jack's numerous offers, Archie had no desire to leave his Glasgow hideaway and join Torchwood Three. He would have made a formidable field operative. Now? It seemed that life was slowly eroding away the man Miranda had once known. It was nothing new to her. 

She continued to walk, trying to think of the proper way to present things to Jack when she got back to Cardiff. The immortal man was quite fond of the eccentric Scotsman and he would not take his retirement well since retirement would mean a lifetime of memories retconned away in the blink of an eye. She and Jack had no choice really, especially if the Scot’s wits were beginning to fail him. Archie was a special case. It was exceedingly rare for a Torchwood operative to live to collect their pension, and nonexistent at Three. It had been One’s policy - death or retcon. Even though Jack had severed ties and One was no more, Three still followed many of its protocols. She and Jack would have to have a long discussion about whether or not to bend the rules for Archie. It was really more Jack’s decision than hers. 

She allowed her thoughts to wander as she walked along. She stopped and leaned over the railing to admire the view down the river. Her thoughts continued to wander and she suddenly wondered if Captain John Hart had ever visited Scotland in his travels on Earth. 

A deep pain rattled through her chest. 

She and Hart had only shared a single night but that wasn’t why she mourned his loss. It wasn’t the brevity that upset her. She’d felt a kinship with him, a deep connection that had forged itself without her even realising. It was a connection she hadn’t felt in a long time that had stirred deep emotions. She’d realised how deep her feelings ran too late… once he was gone. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to treasure the great gift the universe had presented her with. She would forever consider John Hart a spouse - her fourth husband. She remembered how it had been after she’d lost her other mortal spouses. It would be years before she felt right again. It would be decades before she considered taking another lover. And it would be long centuries before the lancing pain in her chest at the thought of Hart's name would lessen. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. 

As she walked towards the railway station, once again, she  contemplated leaving Torchwood. What she’d told Ianto after her break up with Nora Ashline was true, the best thing for her was to be alone. After a profound loss like Hart’s, Miranda usually retreated to one of her homes across the world for sometimes as long as a century. It was something she probably should have done after Nora but that wasn’t an option in this modern world. The last time she’d done so was when her second wife had died nearly five hundred years ago. Now, the world moved too quickly. There was too much change. Even a few decades would be inadvisable if not downright deadly but that wasn’t the main reason she wasn’t retreating. 

She had obligations to Torchwood. In the past, she’d had no qualms about leaving at the drop of a hat, but back then, she’d been nothing more than the typical field operative. Now she was Torchwood’s physician and second in command. She would have to prepare for her departure well in advance. There were steps to take but that wasn’t the main reason either. 

Her mind kept telling her that if Captain Hart did return, it would be to Cardiff and to this century. She knew it wasn’t healthy for her to linger, pining for the fifty first century time traveller who, in all likelihood, would never return. But still, she waited. She knew that if Hart truly wished it, he could find her. She was immortal after all. She had time. Not only did she have time but so did he. Had he decided in his lifetime to return, he could have done so within moments of his departure. It had been months. The only conclusion Miranda could come to was that he was unwilling or unable to return. But still, she waited. 

She boarded the train to Cardiff and found her seat. She settled into it but couldn’t dismiss a niggling feeling in the back of her mind. She leaned into the aisle and saw Kiernan sitting a few rows up. She'd become used to her Watcher's presence over the years but this wasn’t the first time she’d felt as if she were being watched in Glasgow. Ignoring her instincts was not how Miranda had managed to survive for four millennia. She stood up and walked up the aisle towards the toilet. She waited patiently in line and then took her turn. When she came out, she quickly glanced at everyone in the cabin while she made her way back to her seat. She saw no suspicious behaviour nor nothing amiss. She only recognised Kiernan. She sat down and waited the rest of the train ride. 

The feeling hadn't abated by the time she got to Cardiff, nor by the time she'd gotten to the Plass. Whoever was following her was good. Miranda ducked around the water tower and then hopped up onto the paving stone and into the perception filter. She stood there, waiting and watching and that was when she saw the familiar face of Cameron MacDonald. 

The young man looked well. His dark hair was longer than when they'd first met. He was also in need of a shave. The stubble was slightly ginger. He was wearing a plain polo shirt and a pair of jeans. The blue eyes were darting around the Plass, searching for her. He'd abandoned any ruse and was walking, looking to his right and left. He was heading straight for the paving stone. 

Miranda bent down and pulled the buck knife from her boot. She looked up and down the Plass. It was deserted. For a split second, she pondered killing him. It would be a simple thing, really, for her to just drag him onto the paving stone, slit his throat and be done with it. Miranda squashed the murderous impulse the moment it rose up and then frowned deeply at it. It was not a good sign. She realised that Cameron MacDonald was a solution for her, another wheel in her departure could turn. 

The sound of Cameron's trainers on the pavement brought her out of her thoughts. She and Jack had been watching the young doctor ever since he'd left Cardiff. He'd gotten a job at a hospital in Glasgow and was living a fairly quiet, normal life. Fish had been monitoring him since he'd become quite interested in all things Torchwood. After several months, he'd shown no signs of returning to Cardiff or further interest in Torchwood so they'd dropped most of the surveillance. They'd had no idea that Cameron was following them. She wondered what the young Scot had discovered or what he’d seen. True, this could have been his first time following one of them but Cameron had managed to tail Miranda across two countries without being seen. Miranda was impressed and that didn't happen often. Cameron had bit the hook they'd dangled in front of him last year and, albeit a little delayed, Torchwood was reeling him in.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a rift spike large enough that when Ianto had seen it, he'd woken everyone. It had been very late… or early depending on how you looked at it. The location was in the middle of Splott, near the roundabout and they'd all arrived within minutes of each other. The second they pulled up they could see the scene was chaos. There were far more local police than was necessary and they all looked very, very angry. While Miranda went to look at the bodies, Jack and Fish started to search the scene. Jack sent the two Welsh team members to try and hold back the police. They immediately met with significant resistance. 

"Oi! Get back!" Ianto shouted.  

"Torchwood can piss off! Those are two of our own there, Gwen! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Andy Davidson screamed them.  

"Andy, listen, I understand, but we have-" 

"Bollocks! Think you're better than the rest of us now, eh, Gwen? Well you can stuff it!" Andy yelled. The other PC's around him were just as angry, trying to push past her. Jack could hear them cursing loudly at Gwen and Ianto in English and Welsh and went over to help. 

"Oi! All of you get back!" Gwen shouted as she shoved at the men. 

"You heard her. Get back!" Jack barked as he strode over, coat flapping. 

"We know what happens when Torchwood gets involved! Nothing!" one of the other PC's screamed. "Swept under the carpet it is!" 

Andy spat on the ground at Jack's feet. "Fucking tossers!" 

Jack hadn't thought Andy Davidson capable of that amount of backbone. Jack took two quick steps forward, pushing aggressively at the group of PC's. He glared at each one of them in turn. "You take a look at my team and tell me I don't know what's it's like to lose one of your own." 

The police knew Torchwood well. Andy had been on the force long enough to know that the pretty Asian woman and skinny doctor were gone. After the creatures had appeared from the sewers and the bombs had gone off throughout the city, the next time Torchwood had appeared, they simply weren't there. What had their names been? Harker? Something Japanese? Andy hadn't wanted to ask Gwen. The two former partners scarcely spoke anymore but Andy remembered the haggard and haunted look in her eyes during the months following. The PC's looked at each other and stepped back. Jack turned and nodded at the others who each walked away and began searching the scene carefully. 

Jack crossed over to Miranda who was kneeling down, examining one of the bodies. There were two bodies and Jack could see what was left of a taser and a baton strew across the pavement. _This is going to get ugly._ Wearing a pair of gloves, Miranda was tilting the dead man's head. The site before her was gruesome. The pieces of the snapped baton were jutting from the back of the man's skull. The rest of the torso was a ruined mess, nothing more than blobs of barely recognisable flesh. If it wasn't for the position of the feet, Miranda wouldn't even have been able to tell this man was laying face down. Then again, that may not be the case. Snapped pieces of ribs jutted out from the bloodied mess that reminded her of the past. _The blood eagle…_ Miranda looked up at Jack and that was when she saw Cameron MacDonald behind the police tape, craning his neck. 

"We need to find whatever did this before anyone else runs into it," Jack said, worried. He covered the body and made his way towards the other one. "This is going to be a touchy one." 

"Jack," she said. 

The immortal man turned and looked at her quizzically. She flicking her eyes in Cameron's direction. Jack recognised him immediately. When they'd dangled the Torchwood hook in front of Cameron years ago, the young man had gone off and Jack hadn't expected him to return. While the potential had made him eager at first, now that Cameron was here, Jack was reluctant. The faulty addition of Captain Hart was still raw. It had been just over a month since his former partner had vanished into the night. Jack felt profoundly guilty not just for what it had done to Miranda but for what it was doing to his team. The team dynamic was just starting to settle back down. So when Miranda had mentioned the young Scot to him, he'd tried to shoot down the idea but then his second in command had told him she was leaving. 

Jack looked over his shoulder, pretending to scan the crowd. “I wish you’d change your mind.” 

Miranda glared up at him. 

Jack stood there, his feet apart and his arms crossed over his chest with his chin tucked in. He let out a sigh and shook his head slightly. 

“I guess I should be happy you’re giving some notice this time,” he said, bitterly. He turned, coat swirling, and walked to the police tape. He pointed at Cameron. 

"You. Yes, you." He waved at the PC next to the tape. "Let him through."

Cameron’s heart leapt upwards into his throat. He couldn’t believe it! He ducked under the tape and jogged towards Jack. He held out his hand and smiled. "Cameron MacDonald."

“ _Doctor_ Cameron MacDonald,” Jack said, a strange look on his face. 

“Pardon?” Cameron asked, confused.  

“Forget it,” Jack said, disappointed. For a moment, his smile was sad and nostalgic. It became more genuine and Jack held out his hand. He shook Cameron's hand, saying, "Captain Jack Harkness."  

Miranda came up behind him and gave his arm a playful slap. "Stop it, Jack." 

"I was just saying hello," Jack said, rolling his eyes a bit. 

"I don't mind." Cameron quirked his mouth and winked. "You're not my type though. I love the period look but I don't do showy." 

Jack looked a bit stunned, surprised to be one up'd in his own game. A bemused smile broke out across Miranda's face. 

“Aye, not used to getting as good as you give, are you?" Cameron said with a small laugh. He turned to Miranda. “Do you remember me, Doctor Ryan?” 

“Of course, Doctor MacDonald. This way please," Miranda said, turning back towards the bodies. 

Jack lowered his voice and said to Cameron, "Torchwood was formed by Queen Victoria to protect the British Empire from alien threats." 

To Miranda and Jack's alarm, Cameron's reaction wasn't surprise. It was exuberance. The young man punched the air and leapt. "I knew it!" 

"Hey, tone it down," Jack said. He cast a nervous look at the crowd and the angry PC's. 

Cameron looked around, embarrassed. He was drawing quite a few angry stares. "Sorry…" 

"Who is the pot and who is the kettle there, Jack?” Miranda teased. She knelt down next to the bodies and threw back the tarp. "Doctor MacDonald, welcome to Torchwood. Consider this your job interview." 

"Holy hell!" Cameron gasped and winced at the gore. The surprise immediately turned clinical. He began to carefully survey the corpse with a professional eye. "There was a lot of rage here… overkill."

Jack stood over Cameron in a similar stance to before. His arms were folded and his feet were apart. He asked, "And what's the basis for that theory?” 

"Well…" Cameron started. 

Jack didn’t give him a chance to finish. He interrupted, “That the assailant is human. Start thinking outside the planet, doc.” He turned on his heel and walked over to the second tarp. He called out without turning around, "And stop watching so many police dramas. This isn't an episode of CSI." 

Cameron sighed and followed Jack. He felt like a first class idiot. Here he was, on the inside, _finally_ , and he was cocking it up. Jack knelt down and flipped back the second tarp. This man's skull was completely crushed, nearly flat. If Miranda hadn't known better, she would've thought he'd been run over by a car. She covered the body with the tarp again. 

"Any idea of what we're looking for, Jack?" she asked, standing up and looking around. 

"It could be anything, Will," he said with a sigh. “The bodies have residual rift energy on them. So does the baton and the taser.”

"Will?" Cameron asked. 

"Nickname," Miranda said, supplying a half truth. "Miranda is fine." 

They may be giving Cameron a shot but this wasn’t the time nor the place to let him know about the immortal team members. Miranda and Jack caught the eyes of the rest of the team, silently communicating the reason for Cameron's presence. The two immortals stood up, gazing around. Gwen was examining a pile of blankets, sifting through them for any clues. She picked up one of the blankets and walked over to them. 

"Jack? Take a look at this. These were the blankets the assailant was wrapped in. They're not like any fabric I've ever seen. There's a design on it, here, woven into it," Gwen said. 

She held the blanket up high so Jack could see the whole design. The cloth was greyish blue with a strange symbol woven into it. It almost looked like some sort of wonky, backwards 'E' overlaid with a circle that looked like it was pierced with a knife. Jack shook his head.

"No clue," he said. "Bag and tag everything you find, Gwen." 

"Got it," she said, wandering back towards the rest of the bundle. "You want the bodies Miranda?"

She nodded in response and then Gwen turned to the newcomer. “I’m Gwen Cooper.” 

“Cam MacDonald,” he said with a smile. He was about to offer her his hand when she simply turned and walked away. _Awkward…_ When he turned back to Jack and Miranda, Miranda was giving Jack an annoyed look. 

"What? I don't know everything, Will," he said with a shrug. He turned towards Cameron. "We'll see you on the Plass this afternoon if you want to get some rest-” 

"Actually, I'll be performing the cursory autopsies immediately, Jack," Miranda interrupted. "Why don't you follow us back to base, Cameron? You can observe and we can begin the… paperwork." 

Cameron looked about nervously. "Oh… I don't have a car." 

"I'm sure we can all squeeze in," Miranda said, waving at the SUV. "Is there anything else you wanted from the scene, Jack?" 

The immortal man shook his head. He waved at the rest of the team. Fish and Gwen were chatting next to the SUV, flicking their eyes in Cameron’s direction. Ianto was standing next to PC Davidson, their heads together. He gave a polite smile and goodbye and the team all piled into the SUV. As was apparent when Captain Hart was with them, an extra person wouldn't fit no matter how tightly they all squeezed in. So, Cameron offered to ride in the boot. He sat there, cross legged, watching the Torchwood team. 

When he'd gone back to Glasgow he'd done his best to put Cardiff, the strange illness and Torchwood behind him but he'd been unable to. So he’d started to investigate where anyone would - the Internet. What had had him perplexed was the complete and total lack of information. Even the insane conspiracy theorist websites had nothing on the mysterious group. It was like a void. And any doctor can tell you, sometimes the absence of a thing is just as significant as its presence. So Cameron had used all his holiday time and all his savings to make regular trips to Cardiff. He’d started investigating. He'd started reading newspapers - actual newspapers. He’d started talking to people. He didn't have much to go on but eventually he'd figured out a lot about the small team that dashed about Cardiff. It had taken even less time before he’d started following them. When you mentioned Torchwood, most people pointed towards the bay. It was how he’d found them the first time.

When he'd decided to become a doctor, everything had taken a second seat. He’d had no relationships nor friends. There was no girlfriend or boyfriend nor nights out with mates down the pub. He'd focused on nothing but his studies. He'd plowed through his internship and then his residency but his medical career had all evaporated once he'd encountered Torchwood. After his dismissal from University Hospital, Cameron had had a hard time finding a new post in Glasgow and when he started taking more and more time, coming in late and leaving early, once again, he'd lost his job. But he didn't care, he was a man with a new obsession. He'd sold everything he'd owned of value and moved back down to Cardiff, living minimally. He took odd jobs just to keep himself fed and sheltered but he spent all his free time investigating Torchwood.  

And just like his hard work to get into medical school, it had all paid off! Here he was! It was as if all his Christmases had come at once! Even though Jack's driving was tossing him about the back of the SUV, he could barely contain himself. He felt like a kid and it wasn’t just because it was riding in the back. He was overflowing with anticipation and excitement. He kept fidgeting, almost vibrating with nervous energy. 

He wasn't surprised when the SUV pulled into the underground car park at the Millennium Centre. He was surprised when they pulled up to a large service lift. Jack rolled down the window and leaned out, inserting a keycard into the slot. He typed in a long number and then said his name. The lift door opened, Jack removed the keycard and he drove the SUV inside. 

The other side of the lift opened and Jack drove forward into the Hub garage. There were three other cars, a blue Audi, a grey Vectra, and a red mini cooper. Jack parked the SUV next to the Audi and got out, stoically. Cameron knocked on the rear window and Ianto opened the boot so he could climb out. 

"Doctor MacDonald, welcome to Torchwood," Ianto said. He held out his hand to help Cameron out. "My apologies for the transport. I'm Ianto Jones." 

"Call me Cam. Where are we?" Cameron asked. He accepted Ianto’s hand and climbed out. 

"The Torchwood Hub. It's under the Millennium Centre," Ianto said. He gestured down the hallway. "This way, please." 

Cameron followed Ianto down the concrete hallway. For a super secret underground base, he thought the place looked kind of like a dump but that changed when he got to the main Hub. He looked around, staring upwards. It was massive! 

"Boardroom everyone," Jack said, tightly. "Ianto? Crash course." 

Ianto waved and Cameron followed. “This is the main Hub. That way is the garage, you've seen. North sub-basement to the gyms and locker room. East stairs to the archives. Autopsy and medical bay. Kitchen - never touch the coffee machine. Hothouse is there. Jack's office - always knock. The boardroom is this way." 

Cameron was still turning as he walked, looking around. "Don't touch the coffee machine and always knock on Jack's door. Aye…” 

Ianto smiled, usually just that amount of information overwhelmed people. All Ianto saw in Cameron's eyes was wonder. Cameron leapt back when Myfanwy landed on the metal walkway in front of him. Ianto stopped in his tracks from shock. Usually the pterosaur was enough to make grown men quake in their boots, or at least, let out a womanly shriek. Cameron was just standing there. 

"She's never done that before…" Ianto said, surprised. He grabbed Cameron by the arm to move him to safety but the Scot shook him off, approaching Myfanwy with curiosity. 

"A pterosaur…" he said.  

Cameron's eyes were wide. He looked like a child staring at a Christmas tree for the first time. He reached out and Ianto wasn't able to stop him in time. Cameron laid his hand on Myfanwy's beak and Ianto froze with shock. The pterodactyl backed away and snapped at Cameron's fingers playfully. He jerked his hand back, laughing. Startled by the noise, Myfanwy took off for her perch. No one but Ianto was ever able to touch her and that had taken years of trust built between the two of them. The fact that she'd taken to Cameron so quickly hurt Ianto's feelings a bit. 

"I think I scared her," Cameron said, grinning. "She's beautiful!"

"She doesn't usually like strangers," Ianto said, still not believing what he'd just seen. If any of the others on the team had tried that, Myfanwy would have attacked. Before Ianto could wonder at their pet's strange behaviour more, Jack bellowed, "Ianto!" 

Ianto reached out for Cameron's arm. "C'mon, Cam." 

Cameron reluctantly turned towards the boardroom, glancing up frequently hoping to catch another glimpse of the pterosaur. 

"Cam, have a seat," Jack said, gesturing at the only available chair on Miranda's right next to Gwen. He pointed at everyone as he spoke. "You've met Will, Ianto and Gwen. That’s Doctor Joseph Fischer." 

Fish stood and gave Cameron a smile. He leaned across the table with his hand extended. "Everyone calls me Fish." 

"Cam." 

Once Cameron sat down and everyone else was settled, Jack stood up. "Okay, people. I know we usually regroup after a little more investigating but this one's touchy. Everyone keep the rookie in mind. Gwen? You want to fill us in on the locals?" 

She looked at Cameron, flashing a friendly smile. She looked a little more relaxed to him than she did at the scene. “I used to be a PC with the South Wales Police. It's my job here to coordinate with local authorities and emergency services." She tapped the tablet in front of her and pictures of the two PC's were displayed on the screen above them. "These are our two victims. PC’s Craig Giles and Mark Lee. Partners going on a year now, your typical beat coppers. Good records, nothing out of the ordinary.” 

“Wrong fucking place. Wrong fucking time…” Fish shook his head and sighed. He turned to Cameron. “I used to work for a green energy firm as a chemical engineer before I joined this lot. I’m the technician. I deal with all the alien and computer tech.” He turned to Jack. “I’ve already got the computers looking through the CCTV footage around the area.” 

After a nod at Fish, Jack turned to Gwen and asked, “What do you think?"

Gwen shrugged. "This one's raw, Jack, but it’s to be expected. PC Giles’s wife had a baby a few months ago. Lee was a few year veteran but he's got two kids. They were good family men, well liked on the force. There’s no witnesses. There was nothing at the scene except for two of those blankets.” 

Fish shook his head. "Christ, they’re going to be on the war path." 

"We're going to have a problem keeping the locals out of this on any level," Gwen sighed. She slid the tablet across the table to Ianto. 

Ianto gave Cameron a friendly smile he was about to open his mouth to explain his role at Torchwood to their newest member but Jack interrupted him. 

“Ianto cleans up after us, gets us everywhere on time and looks good in a suit,” Jack said with a wink. 

“Harassment, sir,” Ianto said with an affectionate smile. 

Cameron heard the playfulness in the tease. He also saw the loving look that passed between the two men. He flicked his eyes between Ianto and Jack’s hands, noticing the matching rings. He averted his eyes when he saw Ianto turn attention to him. 

With mock annoyance, Ianto said with an official tone, “I handle most of the odds and ends. Food and drink. Building maintenance. Fetching this and that.” 

He may have made his role sound insignificant but Cameron got the distinct impression that Torchwood would probably fall apart without the likes of Ianto Jones. Ianto’s expression changed, turning a bit more serious. 

“The local media’s already involved. The story is out and it's gruesome nature is making it go a bit viral,” Ianto said, tapping the tablet. A few news websites displayed. 

Cameron knocked on the table and all eyes turned to him. "Sorry this may be a stupid question… but when I was looking into you lot, I couldn't find anything on the Internet. Why not kill the story? I’m guessing that’s what you usually do.”  

Miranda spoke from Cameron's left. “It may cause more harm than good.” 

"There's a rift through time and space that runs through Cardiff. Things fall through. Sometimes it's harmless and sometimes we end up with two dead PC's," Jack said, matter-of-factly. “Our job is to police and monitor the rift.” 

"But right now we don't know there's something alien or rift related,” Ianto said. He twisted his chair away from Jack's. 

“It’s the likely cause though,” Gwen interjected. “On the surface, it looks like a violent homicide. If we squash the story…” 

“…the locals go nuclear,” Jack finished. 

They were all finishing each other’s sentences. Cameron found it a bit unnerving.

"So an alien came through this rift and murdered two PC's?" Cameron asked, confused.  

"It might not have been intentional," Fish pointed out. "Think about it, mate. You get scooped up out of your bed and you wake up in another place. Two blokes come at you with things in their hands, accosting you and shouting in a language you can't understand…” 

"He's scared and alone…" Cameron said, nodding.  

"It might not be an intelligent being either. Imagine a strong, dangerous, wild animal dropped into the middle of Cardiff?" Ianto said. 

“Or it could be anything in the middle of the evolutionary scale between a modern human and an ancient hominid or another planet’s equivalent. The rift means that anything in our known universe can fall through, past, present or future,” Miranda pointed out. 

"Bugger," Cameron whispered under his breath. What had he gotten himself into? It was a whole different level of thinking. It was making Cameron’s brain hurt. 

"It's not just living beings and creatures," Fish pointed out. "Things fall through the rift too. You get a plant that's used to treat disease in an alien species that's killing us. You get a device that's used to create wood sculptures on one planet slicing people's arms off here. Human beings are curious. We pick things up. We fiddle with them." 

Jack cleared his throat. "Moving on… You’ve met Will already, Cam. She’s our medic and second in command. Will? What's your take on the bodies?"

“We're dealing with a being of exceptional strength. My guess is a humanoid that is capable of blending in," she said. Cameron thought she looked like something out of an old Star Trek episode. The way she sat tilted in her seat with her fingers steepled in front of her face reminded him vividly of Spock. "I can't make any more determination until I examine the bodies more closely." 

"Gwen, keep in close contact with the locals. I don't want them to think we're dropping the ball here. Fish I want you analysing those blankets Gwen found. If we can get some DNA, get some fiber analysis, we might be able to figure out what we’re dealing with. Will, I know you like to do full autopsies but-"

"Cursory only and kick the bodies back to the locals," Miranda said with a nod.

"You got it," Jack replied. "Cam, Ianto's got some things for you to sign and he'll go over some rudimentary procedure."

Without turning towards Jack or looking at anyone else, Miranda said, "And the files in your safe, Jack." 

There was an uncomfortable rustle around the table that Cameron didn’t understand. Gwen and Fish were shifting in their seats, like children who’s parents were having a row at the dinner table. Jack looked at Ianto and then back to Miranda. "You're not the only one who makes that call now, Will." 

Miranda turned and Cameron felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. She narrowed her eyes at Ianto and stared at him. She didn’t look around at anyone else as she said, "Will the rest of you give Ifan and I the room please?"


	3. Chapter 3

Miranda took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders and then slowly exhaled. _What do you say, Dollface? Care to dance?_ the voice echoed in her head. For a moment, she felt like she was suffocating. That horrible morning, without Hart’s furnace next to her, she’d woken from a chill. It was immediately apparent that he had fled in the night. He’d left a few scattered items behind but everything spoke of a hasty exit. After Miranda had composed herself, she’d gone upstairs, lightly knocking on the hatch in Jack’s office. Usually, it was Ianto who Miranda confided in but it was Jack who held her as she cried that morning. It was also Jack who’d told the rest of the team about Hart’s departure and likely about her tryst with the former Time Agent. Miranda honestly didn’t care that they knew but she wished everyone would stop walking on eggshells around her. Jack, and the rest of her friends felt terribly, as if they’d caused her heartbreak. 

Hart’s hasty departure had broken Miranda’s heart but it had also deeply wounded the team, Fish most of all. He’d been Hart’s most vocal and stalwart defender. Now, he was profoundly disappointed and bitter. Ianto and Jack both felt betrayed and angry. The worst was, by far, Gwen. She’d taken on this obnoxious ‘I told you so’ attitude since Hart’s disappearance, largely misreading everyone else’s disappointment on anger. More than once she’d gone on a small rant about how they never should have trusted Hart to begin with or how they should all be happy they’ve wiped their hands of him. She wisely kept these tirades to herself in Miranda’s presence but the immortal woman had overheard more than Gwen had probably thought she had.  

She gave herself a rough mental shake and continued to lay out the instruments even though she’d likely not need them. Usually, Ianto did this but he was busy with Cameron, briefing him on the three immortals. It was also usually Ianto’s job to bring up the body from their cold storage but this time Fish was seeing to it. The sound of the lift doors and wheels on tile brought her head up. She walked over to the cupboard and began putting on her own gown, mask and gloves. 

"Contestant number one," Fish said, morbidly. The protective mask he was wearing muffled his voice a bit. Together, the two of them slid the bag onto the table. 

Fish wiped his gloved hands on his gown. “Christ, I'm glad Ianto helps you with this most of the time." 

He backed away, removing his protective gear. He looked faintly green. He said, tentatively, "You two all right?" 

"Hmm?" Miranda pretended as if she hadn’t heard him but she was trying to ignore the question. 

But Fish persisted. “You and Ianto?" 

Miranda sighed. Working for Torchwood and being an immortal of the Game was a unique predicament that she didn't really expect her friend to understand. Of all her mortal friends, Fish was the one who understood immortality the best. Not only was his lover part of the Game but the man excelled at walking a mile in someone else's shoes. Her discussion with Ianto hadn't lasted long. She had told him that it was his decision whether or not to reveal his own immortality to Cameron but she strongly advised against keeping it a secret. Ianto had brought up his objections but left it up to Miranda to reveal her own. She’d countered that it didn’t make sense for them to reveal one immortal but not the others. The discussion that had followed hadn't been easy. Ianto had agreed, but he was extremely reluctant. 

"Ifan was uncomfortable revealing our immortality to Cameron so quickly." 

"He hasn't even told sister yet, Evie," Fish blurted. 

Normally, the objection would have annoyed Miranda but it was the first time someone had spoken their mind around her since Hart had vanished.

"What's the first rule of Torchwood?" Miranda asked, turning around. 

"Don't mess with the rift," Fish said, automatically.

"And the second?"

"No heroics for you, Jack or Ianto," Fish said, again, automatically. 

"In 1964, Gabriel Morris stepped between me and a bullet," Miranda said, harsher than she intended. Gabe’s gentle face came alight in her mind. She softened her tone and said, "He didn't know what I was. He'd been with Torchwood eight months and he was only twenty one years old. He gave his life to save a woman who had about as much to fear from a bullet as a fucking paper cut. So I might not like the idea that I have to tell every Torchwood operative about what I am but I do it because, in four thousand years, I’ve seen enough pointless death.”

“Henry says death is always pointless,” Fish said, flatly. 

Miranda gave him a slight glare. Those were her words Henry had repeated. She replied, “Precisely.” 

There was a polite throat clear behind the two of them. When they both turned, Cameron was standing at the top of the stairs. He looked embarrassed and said, "Sorry." 

Fish tossed his things away in the biohazard bin and washed his hands. He stepped past Miranda without another word. 

"Four thousand, eh?" Cameron said, once Fish was out of the room. 

"If you are about to make an old age joke-"

"My great-grandmother lived to be a hundred and ten," Cameron said, stepping down the stairs. "Never missed a trick that woman. Sharp as a tack." He reached over to the pile of protective gear and selected a gown and gloves. "I was seven. Day before she died, I went to visit her in hospital with my family." He put on a gown and gloves. As he settled the face shield on his head, he said, "I asked her if she was scared and she actually laughed at me. She said, 'Johnny boy, my parents are dead, my sisters and brothers are dead, my husband is dead, both my children and some of my grandchildren are dead, my friends are all dead… would you be afraid or would you be relieved? Now be a good lad and fetch this dying old woman a whiskey.'" 

Miranda smiled. 

Though he returned the smile, his voice was serious. "I'm just saying, Miranda. My granny was full of enough spirit to make it to a hundred and ten. Getting to four thousand? Well, if you've got more piss and vinegar than my old granny then you're not someone I'd make an old age joke at." 

Miranda laughed. She handed Cameron a large pair of forceps.

"Thanks for waiting for me," he said, leaning over the corpse.

“We’ll be sharing the medic duties, including the postmortems. You need to learn and learning is best done by doing.” 

She unzipped the bag and Cameron asked, “You’re not taking the body out?” 

Miranda shook her head. “These aren't typical autopsies that are performed in hospital or by the police. Our procedure is similar but our goals are different," Miranda said as she began to cut off the uniform. She didn’t elaborate further. 

Cameron looked over the body for a second and then tilted up to look at her. He gave her a curious look. “Ianto said you lot can’t get sick. Why the gown, gloves and mask?"

“I’m immune to infectious disease but I’m not immune to substances," Miranda said as she examined the body. She pushed the pieces of clothing to the sides. "If some poison or drug were involved, I could become a danger to the mortals around me."

He gestured at the body with a jerk of his head. "This is the bloke who was bludgeoned right? Is blunt force trauma the cause of death?"

"My guess, right now, is exsanguination," Miranda said as she began taking samples. “The baton may have severed some major vein or artery. Cause of death doesn't matter to Torchwood unless its alien in nature. We're not the police. This isn't a typical homicide investigation." 

"Then why the post-mortem?" Cameron asked, gesturing at the corpse.

"This is what I call 'a cursory autopsy'. Its purpose is to determine if the manner of death was alien or terrestrial in nature. If there’s anything alien about the death, no matter how small, the body is kept here. If the cause of death is indeed something terrestrial like exsanguination or blunt force trauma, I turn the body back over to Heddlu Gwent so they can perform their own post mortem. Due to the sensitive nature of this case with the local police, unless there’s something obviously alien about the death that can be easily detected, we’ll be returning the bodies." Miranda didn't look up from the body as she spoke, occasionally moving aside a piece of flesh or lifting a broken bone. 

"Aye, they weren't happy," Cameron said with a sigh. 

"The local police have learned that when Torchwood becomes involved, many times there is no arrest made. It is particularly distressing for them since two of their own are involved," Miranda said, sadly. 

Cameron lifted what was left of the arm. He winced and pointed at the large wounds. "You're right. One of the initial punctures had to hit a major vessel." 

"At this point the manner of death appears to be Earth-normal. I'm just trying to determine if any clues were left behind on the corpse that can help in locating the perpetrator, nothing more," Miranda said. She took a few steps towards the corpse's feet and tilted her head. "It reminds me of the blood eagle." 

The look on her face gave Cameron the creeps. It was almost like a child trying to figure out what a cloud looked like. There was a touch of nostalgia in her eyes, as if the gore was reminding her of a pleasant memory. 

"The what now?" he asked. 

Miranda spoke, gesturing with her gloved fingers. "An ancient Norse method of torture and execution. The skin on the back is split, at the spine. The ribs are broken and spread outwards. The lungs are then pulled out through the wounds. They flutter, like the wings of a bird." 

"Jesus…" Cameron said. If it was truly a method of torture and execution, it was likely done with the condemned alive. He felt faintly sick. "You've seen that?"

"This one wasn't done properly, it was more of an accident of rage… but yes, I've seen a few…" Miranda said, absently as she zipped the body back into the body bag. "We can return this body to the local police. There's nothing of value here." 

Before she could finish closing the zipper, he reached and and stopped her, saying, "Do you smell that? It's just under the blood. It's almost floral… like jasmine." He turned and then realised how close she was standing. "Oh, your perfume." 

"Never wear any," she said, absently. 

"You smell like that naturally?" he asked, surprised. 

Miranda just gave him a mysterious smile that he couldn't see through her face mask. She sniffed the air and said, "There is a strange smell." 

"I smell blood but there's something else," Cameron pointed out. "I think it's coming from inside the bag." 

"I'm about to remove my mask, Cam. The protocol for unusual behaviour is to lock the agent in a cell," Miranda said as she pulled down her face mask. She bent over the unzipped bag, sniffing the air. "You're correct. There is something floral." 

Cameron pulled down his mask and was about to lean over the bag but Miranda grabbed him by the arm. "Only Ianto, Jack and I take the risks, Cam." 

"Sorry, I was just curious. I thought it smelled familiar," he said, looking confused.  

"Mind your curiosity here. Sometimes even the most innocuous things are quite deadly. Torchwood is a home of prudence. You heard what I said before. We see enough death." 

He nodded and stepped back, turning his attention back to the corpse. He had a nervous tremor to the voice. "Ianto and Jack… they said…" 

"That you would die," Miranda finished for him. 

Cameron nodded. "They… they weren't lying were they?" 

"I'm afraid not. Jack, Ifan and I intercede wherever we can, but we cannot be there at every moment," she replied. "Gwen is the longest surviving field operative. Nine years." 

"Why do I get the feeling that's a very queer thing?” Cameron said with nervous humour. 

"Because it is. Before Gwen, Tabitha Rutherford survived for seven years." 

"I take it she didn't retire and move to Bora Bora?" Cameron said wryly. "Ianto mentioned no one collects their pension." 

Miranda gave Cameron a serious look over her mask. "You don't have to stay here, Cam. You can go back out there. Be a doctor." 

He shook his head and the wonder of a little boy filled his eyes. “I wanted to be one of those doctors who did the Peace Corps or Doctors Without Borders. Everyone knows there's malaria in Africa. This?" He waved at the body and then the Hub. "This battlefield doesn't have enough people on it. I'm proud to join the fight, Miranda. And I _am_ a doctor. I'm Torchwood's doctor." 

"Yes, you are." She admired the bravery. "I'll show you where the cold storage is and we can begin the next post mortem."


	4. Chapter 4

After a hurried breakfast of pastries from the bake shop, Gwen and Cameron returned the bodies to the police. Even though he’d slept little the night before, Cameron was wide awake, and being a physician, quite used to sleep deprivation. He wasn’t the least bit tired. When they returned, he got his first firearms lesson with Gwen. It went better than he'd thought given that he'd never even held a gun before. Chuffed, he sat down with Fish for a crash course in CCTV and that was when that feeling evaporated. The program was complex and difficult. Cameron had no idea how Fish did it. The interactive display and complex keystrokes were giving him a headache. The most complex piece of technology Cameron owned was his mobile telephone. 

"I'm glad you know what all this means, Joe," Cameron said with a wry smile. He waved at the screen. 

Fish looked at him, surprised. "You called me Joe." 

"Well, I got the feeling you don't like it when the others call you Fish," Cameron said, his smile widening. "My mates in med school used to call me Cammie. I hated it. Made me feel like a bloody girl. Was glad I left it behind during my residency." 

"Bloody nickname started when I was in school. I was a bit afraid of learning to swim. Mate of mine tore the mickey out of me for it, called me Fish and it stuck. Going to another bloody continent for uni didn't even help. I finally got rid of it when I moved to the UK for my first job. Evie resurrected it when I started working here," Fish said, annoyed. "I couldn't get the rest of them to stop so I gave up." 

"Evie?" Cameron asked, confused. 

"Miranda," Fish corrected himself. 

"Jack calls her Will. You call her Evie. The rest of us call her Miranda. How many names does she have?" he asked, laughing a bit. 

"She's lived a long time. She's had a lot of names. I didn’t meet her here. I met her back when I was earning my doctorate. She was using the name Evelyn. I tried to call her Miranda when I started up here but couldn’t manage it,” he shrugged and then waved at Ianto’s empty workstation. “Pull up a chair. No need for you to stand.” 

"I'm used to it," he said, shrugging. He rolled the chair from Ianto's workstation over and sat down. "Twelve hour shifts usually spent on my feet." 

"Jack likes for us to stay rested," Fish warned. "Tired people make mistakes and mistakes here cost lives.” 

While he waited for Fish to load the proper programs, Cameron's eyes wandered over Fish's desk. A digital picture frame caught his eye and Cameron watched the pictures cycle through their slide show. There were some from Fish’s past and some of his friends and family but mostly, there was a young man Cameron guessed was about his age, maybe a bit older. He had light brown hair and a regal face. At first, he assumed it was a younger brother or nephew but a few of the pictures told a different story. He looked from the ring on Fish’s finger to the frame. Smiling, he tapping the frame. “Husband?” 

A dreamy, crooked smile came over Fish's face and he blushed. He twisted his finger, the ring still felt unfamiliar. “Fiancé. His name's Henry." 

“Congratulations!” Cameron said, clapping Fish on the shoulder. “Must be hard to keep all this from him. How long have you been together?” 

“Couple years,” Fish said, still smiling. 

“When’s the date?” Cameron asked. 

“Don’t have one yet,” Fish said. 

“So how’d you do it?”

“Do what?” Fish asked, confused. 

“Propose of course!” 

“New Year’s Eve, right at midnight and I didn’t, he did.” He shrugged. Sounding more annoyed than he intended, he said, “Henry’s more excited about the wedding than I am.”  

“Been there, done that, eh?” Cameron asked. 

“Is it that obvious?” Fish asked. 

“Sorry, Joe, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, mate. I didn’t mean it like that,” he interrupted. He’d been thinking a lot about Olivia since they’d started planning the wedding. “I want to be as excited as he is, I do. But it’s just… it’s hard.” 

“Left at the altar?” 

“She gatecrashed my stag night,” Fish replied, ruefully. 

“Ouch.” Cameron winced. “You think they’re the one and then it all goes tits up.”  

“Been there, done that too, eh?” Fish repeated. 

“Aye,” Cameron said, regretfully. “I thought we were in love. Turns out she was cheating on me with half the bloody med school class and one of our professors.” 

“Ouch,” Fish said, wincing. 

“Aye. I felt like a bloody idiot. Everyone knew but me.” Cameron waved at the picture frame. “You’ll get there. Something will just click one day and you’ll be as excited for that first dance as he is.” 

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Fish said, smiling and rolling his eyes a bit. Henry had already been asking about the music. With his perpetual two left feet, he dreaded the idea of dancing in front of others. 

“It won’t matter,” Cameron insisted. “He’s a good looking bloke. You're a lucky man." 

Fish blushed scarlet. 

Cameron gave him a friendly light punch to his shoulder. He leaned down and teased, "Bit of a cradle robber, eh?" 

Fish blushed even deeper. He remembered what Henry had said to him when they'd first met. He smiled at Cameron. "Henry's older than he looks." 

Suddenly, Cameron looked a bit embarrassed. "Sorry if I was out of place there. I don't think sometimes, say odd things. I'm not good with people…" 

Fish laughed at that. "Not good with people? You're a doctor.”

Cameron’s embarrassment deepened. “I got into medicine for the science of it.” Eager to switch the subject, Cameron tapped the screen. "I can't believe you have access to all these cameras. They're called 'closed circuit' for a reason." 

Fish's smile turned to a bit wicked. "Not to us, mate."

He tapped at some keys and clicked on a file. A video of a beautiful young Asian woman with fringe appeared on the side. She smiled. 

"Who's that then?" Cameron asked. "She's beautiful." 

"Cameron MacDonald meet Toshiko Sato," Fish said. Tosh raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in greeting. "I've been trying to add an artificial intelligence interface to the computer system with Tosh here as a model. She was the technician before me. Bloody genius she was. She could twist alien tech up and put it all back together again - Mozart with a soldering iron. She made everything you see here. She's the reason 'closed circuit' doesn't mean 'closed circuit' to Torchwood." 

"What happened to her?" he asked, reaching out to touch the face on the screen. He smiled and laughed when she leaned back and wagged her finger at him. 

"She was shot and killed in the line," Fish said, sadly. He jerked his head over his shoulder. “She’s still in development. Doesn’t work as well as I’d like yet. Keep it quiet, Cam. Gwen and Ianto know but Jack doesn’t and team losses are kind of a sore point for him… for all of us. Usually, I let her do her thing without loading the interface but I need to work on her.” 

"I won't say a word," he promised and smiled as Tosh put her finger to her lips. 

"So, let's give this a try. I already had her sifting through the footage for the area of the murders. Like I said, she’s still a baby. It takes her just as long as it takes for me to do it myself but I can have her do more than one thing at a time," Fish said, proudly. "Tosh? Cascading display, please." 

"No results," she said, simply. "Area cameras closed for maintenance and upgrade." 

"Bugger all," Fish swore.  

“Probably should’ve told us straight away when she knew there was nothing,” Cameron noted. 

Fish nodded. “It’s little things like that I’m still working out. It’s one of the drawbacks of this sort of flexible programming. I fix one thing and then something else that was working fine before starts to go pear shaped. She was getting a bit cheeky for a while too.” 

Cameron stood up and turned the seat so he was sitting on it backwards. The idea of a computer program getting cheeky didn’t really strike him as odd. Maybe he was settling into all this strangeness? He rested his arms on the back of the chair. "What if we look at the cameras in the surrounding area? Look for anyone who left but didn't arrive?"

"Filtering," Tosh said, putting on her glasses. "Processing results. Estimated time to completion, one hour.” 

"Nothing to do but wait now," Fish said, sitting back. He rubbed at his eyes. "That was good thinking, mate." 

Before Cameron could thank him, Ianto walked over and casually asked, "Who's for Chinese?" 

"Fine by me," Fish said. 

Ianto turned to Cameron. “Cam?” 

He looked at his watch, surprised so much time had passed. It was past noon. “Anything spicy with chicken," he said. He started digging his wallet out of his back pocket.

Ianto shook his head. “Lunch is always on Torchwood, Cam." 

"Usually dinner too," Fish said with a smile. 

"And breakfast like this morning,” Ianto added with a smile of his own. 

Cameron laughed, showing them his empty wallet. "Good thing. I'm broke." 

"We can advanced you your first month, Cam," Ianto said, nodding at Fish. The Australian immediately started tapping away on his computer, making the appropriate transfer. “Why don't you go to a cash point and fetch the take away while you're at it?" 

Ianto dug out his own wallet and handed Cameron his personal credit card and the business card for the Chinese takeaway restaurant they frequented. He placed their usual order with his mobile and handed Cameron the keys to the SUV. "Ask for Soo, she'll take care of you. Take the SUV." 

"Not a scratch on her, I promise," Cameron said with a wink. He gleefully bounded off. 

"Never seen a man so happy to fetch some take away," Fish said with a laugh. His face turned serious as he jerked his head in the direction Cameron had left. "What do you reckon? Think he's up for it?" 

"Too early to tell. I like him," Ianto said. "He's persistent, driven, eager to please…" 

"You make him sound like a bloody corgi, mate," Fish said with a laugh. "Evie said he's having some trouble thinking outside the planet." 

"We all struggle with that at first," Ianto pointed out. “I like him.” 

"I do too," Fish replied. 

“The initial background check was promising a few years ago. Loner. No family. No friends.” 

“Christ, you make us all sound pathetic,” Fish said with a laugh and then he sobered, sighing. He waved around the Hub. "He's so young, Ianto. You think it's a good idea to get him mixed up in all this?" 

"Is it a good idea to get anyone mixed up in this?" Ianto countered. 

"Point," Fish said with wry chuckle. He jerked his head towards the autopsy bay. “You think she’s going to scale back? That why they’re looking for another doctor?”

“Don’t know,” Ianto said with a shrug. “I think she should. I overheard her and Jack talking earlier about a holiday.” 

“Might be good for her to get away for a bit,” Fish said, inclining his head. He craned his neck, making sure Miranda was well out of earshot. With a very worried tone, he asked, “She talking to you, mate? She’s not said anything to me.” 

“Not since that first night when she told Jack.” Ianto shook his head sadly. “Henry?” 

“Not that he’s said,” Fish admitted. 

“It was the same way after Nora,” Ianto pointed out. 

“This is way fucking worse, mate.” Fish’s face darkened as Ianto agreed with him. “That was a good, clean break. Sure, it smarted a bit but this? I swear, when I get my fucking hands on him-”

“I think there might be a queue for giving him a good walloping,” Ianto replied, angry as well. “We may not have anything left after Gwen’s done with him.” He sighed and said, “I’m going to clean and rewrap the instruments. Let me know when Cam gets back." 

Fish turned back to his workstation and continued to sift through the CCTV footage and before he knew it, the sound of unfamiliar footsteps brought his head up. It was Cameron with the take away. He still had a broad smile on his face. Fish was about to shout for Ianto but the Welshman's timing was impeccable as ever. He walked up the autopsy bay stairs. He waved Cameron towards the boardroom. 

Cameron had an extra skip in his step as he walked. He was actually humming as he began to set out the take away. He was becoming a member of the team. Sure he was the new bloke, but he felt like he was fitting in even if it only was one day. The Welshman walked into the boardroom and put a hand on Cameron's shoulder. 

"Wow, sometimes Soo throws us a few free items because we're regulars but never anything like this," Ianto said, waving at the mountain of containers. "You must be quite charming." 

"She was a bit put off that you weren't picking it up. She asked where you were. I’m not good with coming up with things off the cuff so I may have said something about you being under the weather. She threw in some of your favourites." Cameron smiled and said, "I think she fancies you, Ianto." 

"Yes, well, I'm happily married… to another man," Ianto said, smiling himself. 

"I think that just gives her more incentive," Cameron laughed. "You and Jack been married long?" 

Ianto looked at Cameron. He hadn't mentioned he was married to Jack. 

“You’re wearing the same ring,” Cameron pointed out and Ianto relaxed. He said, pointing at Ianto's hand, "It's nice. Tasteful. Masculine. It suits both of you." 

"Thanks. It'll be a year in June." 

"Newlyweds? Congratulations!" Cameron said, smiling. He waved around the room. "Is this how you two met?" 

Ianto nodded but didn't offer anymore information. 

Cameron shifted, uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up something awkward. I was just telling Joe… I'm kind of rubbish with people." 

Ianto raised his eyebrow and opened his mouth to say something but Cameron beat him to it.

"I'm a doctor I know. I like the science. Diagnosing is kind of a fun mystery, like a puzzle," he said, embarrassed. "I spent too much time with my nose buried in books and not enough time making friends and learning how to be around other people. I’ve a rubbish bedside manner.”  

Ianto was about to tell Cameron how he thought his social skills were just fine when Gwen bounded into the room with Fish behind her. 

"Oi, tell me you remembered my hot and sour soup, pup?" Gwen asked. 

"One hot and sour soup," Cameron said, producing the container with a slight flourish. He handed Fish his own food with his other hand. "And chicken with ginger." 

"I think you've got competition, Ianto," Gwen said, taking the containers from Cameron and kissing him on the cheek. She also patted Fish's shoulder as took the container. "And you too. A natural on the range this one was!" 

"Young eyes," Fish teased, patting Cameron on the back. He sat down and started shoveling the food into his mouth in a proper imitation of Jack Harkness. 

"Give yourself a stomach ache you will," Gwen chided. 

"Oi, ease off. I get enough of that at home from Henry," Fish said. He wiped his mouth. "CCTV footage isn't going to watch itself." 

"You can't eat at your workstation?" Cameron asked. He sat down next to Fish. 

"We all try to eat together," Fish said, “and Jack wanted a working lunch.” 

"Oi, that's my seat," Ianto said. He pointed at the seat next to Gwen. "You were there before." 

Cameron held his hands up in defeat and moved around the table just as Jack came into the boardroom for his own food. With smooth precision, he selected his container and slid it down the boardroom table. It came to rest right in front of his chair, a bit of the sauce spilling out. Ianto rolled his eyes at the mess. Without any greeting, Jack sat down and began shoveling the food into his mouth with his usual gusto. Gwen, from her place at Jack's left, began waving at the air in front of her face.  

"God, that’s awful, that is. What _is_ that, Jack?" Gwen asked, looking faintly green. 

"What?" Jack asked, the word muffled by the significant amount of food in his mouth. 

"Stinking up the place, you are. Switch with me, Cam," Gwen said. She lifted her hand to her face, blocking her nose. “Go on, get a move on." 

Cameron was beginning to feel like he was playing musical chairs as he switched seats with Gwen. 

"Spicy chili prawns," Ianto said with a sigh. "And you're not the one who has to sleep next to him tonight."

The whole table burst into laughter as Miranda walked into the room. "What's funny?" she asked. 

"Jack's digestion," Fish said, waving at the head of the table. 

Miranda craned her neck and saw what Jack had ordered. She gave Ianto a look of pity as she settled down with her own food. That piteous look lasted about as long as it took for her to see the pair of chopsticks laying across her plate. She picked them up and threw them at Ianto with playful force. In retaliation, Ianto got up and made a great show of pouring out her soda into an empty glass. Everyone began to chuckle but Cameron felt a bit on the outside of the inside jokes. Fish leaned forward and explained as he handed Miranda a plastic fork. Cameron began to laugh in ernest with the rest of the team. After getting another whiff of Jack's food, Gwen pushed her own container of soup away. 

"Gwen Cooper, you will eat every bite of that," Miranda said sternly. She gave Gwen a pointed look. 

Since Gwen was now seated to her right, Miranda leaned and said very quietly, "I know you're not feeling well but you need to eat. You’re losing weight and vitamin supplements can only do so much. Breathe through your mouth and go slowly." 

With a sigh, Gwen pulled the container back towards her, eating the soup mechanically, forcing it down. Mindful his food was bothering the former PC, Jack edged closer to his husband. He said something but Cameron couldn't understand through the mouth full of food. Did the man have any table manners? 

Ianto gave his husband a stern look and rolled his eyes. He turned to Cameron. “Believe it or not this is an improvement.” 

A ripple of laughter went around the table and Jack gave a pout. Ianto gave him an affectionate smile and then turned to business. “Jack wants updates please. You first, Fish." 

Unlike Torchwood's captain, Fish didn't speak with his mouth full of food. He tapped the tablet in front of him and a few things came up on the screen. There were a few graphs and pictures. He swallowed, wiped his mouth and after taking a sip of water, said, "These two blankets were the only things at the scene that came through the rift with whoever or whatever killed those coppers. They were identical and bursting with rift energy. I analysed a sample, ran it through our equipment and some of the futuristic stuff that's fallen through the rift. It's a basic man-made fiber of futuristic origin. Unfortunately, we don't have an exact match on file but… Ianto?" 

"We do have something similar in the archive,” the Welshman said. Fish slid the tablet in Ianto's direction. Ianto tapped it, sliding his finger across to display different information on the screen above them. "This fiber isn't an exact match but it's similar. This sample came through the rift in the thirties."

"The thirties?" Gwen said. She had her napkin over her face, blocking the smell of Jack's food. "We couldn't have analysed it back then could we?"

"No, but going through the identification backlog is a side project of mine," Fish said. He waved at the screen. "This was one of the items I worked up shortly after I got here." 

Ianto tapped the screen and an enlarged picture of the cloth appeared on the screen. "In 1932, a piece of clothing came through the rift. It appeared to be part of a coat. Anyway, in the pocket was a piece of technology that Jack identified as the thirty ninth century equivalent of a personal digital assistant and/or mobile telephone." 

"The blanket's made out of something like the coat so it's probably from around the same time period," Cameron interjected. 

Ianto nodded. "We can't really guess precisely." 

"But I think plus or minus a century or two wouldn't be far off," Fish said. "As for the CCTV, we're out of luck. The cameras in the area were down for maintenance and upgrading so we have nothing. Cam had a good idea to run a comparison facial recognition and look for people who were seen leaving but not entering the area. We have nothing there as of yet." 

"Mandy?" Ianto asked.

"Nothing new. I couldn't gain anything of value from the bodies other than my initial assessment that we're dealing with a humanoid life form that's incredibly strong," Miranda said, sipping her soda. Ianto noted that the food in front of her was mostly untouched. “There was a strange floral odor accompanying the bodies. Swabs were inconclusive though.” 

"Gwen?" Ianto asked, turning to her. 

“The man who found the bodies didn’t see anything, so we’ve no witnesses,” she said. Cameron could tell she was breathing through her mouth and she looked faintly green and pale. 

“So no leads,” Jack said. A bit of sauce dribbled down Jack’s chin. Ianto deftly leaned forward with a napkin, catching the drip before it could land on Jack’s shirt or trousers. The look was equal parts love and annoyance. Cameron watched carefully. Ianto almost rose up out of his seat and Cameron suspected the Welshman had just suppressed the desire to kiss away the sauce from his husband’s lips. The expression on Ianto’s face may be scathing but his eyes were full of nothing but love and affection. It warmed his heart to see a couple so in love. It was then that he noticed how Ianto had angled his chair away from the others. He dropped his pen on the ground and bent to pick it up. He smiled. The side of Ianto’s shoe was resting against Jack’s boot. He sat back up when he heard Jack begin again. This time without food in his mouth. 

“Okay, we don’t have any leads. We may have to sit on this for a bit, that may smooth things over with the locals some. So, as you were. Ianto? I think it’s been a while since we ran through the consignment shops.” 

Cameron looked confused. He rapped his knuckles on the table. Everyone turned in his direction and he suddenly knew what a goldfish in a bowl felt like. He cleared his throat and hoped his voice wasn’t shaking. “I don’t understand. Two men are dead. We’re not going to find out what did this?” 

“Sometimes we never find out,” Miranda pointed out. 

“But it could still be out there. It could hurt someone else!” The decision astonished Cameron. They were giving up? 

Jack nodded. “We could chase nothing but this all week and come up with zilch.” 

“I know it feels like we’re shirking the case, Cam, but we’re not. What did this might not be here anymore,” Fish said, shrugging. “It could have snapped back through the rift, rare but it happens. It could have been incompatible with our atmosphere or planetary conditions and gone off and died somewhere. There are a dozen or more reasons why the threat could be over.”

“We have limited resources,” Gwen said. She still sounded nasal as she was breathing mostly through her mouth, avoiding the smell of Jack’s food. “Once a case has gone cold, sometimes, we need to move it to the side for a bit.” 

“It’s been cold all of half a day!” Cameron exclaimed. 

“And by tonight, there may be half a dozen more cases. We pick and choose our battles, Cam.” Jack held up his hand calmingly and said, “Just because it’s cold doesn’t mean we’re abandoning it. It’s moving to the side for now while we wait for another lead. The computers are still doing their job and if they find something, we’ll investigate further.” Jack gulped at his coffee. “Let’s eat up and get back to work everyone.”


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of the day proceeded normally for Torchwood. A few small rift spikes and a few artefacts but nothing major. Most importantly, there were no more dead bodies. Cameron quickly learned what Jack meant. Torchwood had to multitask. There was no way they could focus one hundred percent of their energies on one thing alone. There was so much else going on. Even though Cameron wasn’t cleared for field duty, he still dove right in, assisting the team from the Hub. The others had to commend him on his zeal. After dinner, the rift quieted. An exhausted Gwen had gone home early. From the team’s reaction, Cameron got the feeling this was extremely unusual for the former PC. He made a note to examine her tomorrow, to see if she was coming down with something. The end of what the rest of the world considered the business day was over but Torchwood plucked on. Ianto was tidying up and Jack was sorting some paperwork. Miranda lingered only for a few hours before leaving on some unspecified errand. Fish also lingered, tinkering with the tech. Cameron didn’t mind long days, he was used to them. So, instead of going home, he decided to familiarise himself with the medical bay. 

Even though he’d been at the Hub since before dawn and gotten little sleep the night before, he was wide awake. He began opening cupboards and investigating where things were. He’d been a bit embarrassed when Miranda had caught him, but to his surprise, she smiled. She’d only come into the bay so that she could vacate her desk, proclaiming it as his. Miranda actually had two workstations, one in the main Hub and one in here. He expected to be given something in the main Hub with the others but he wasn’t going to argue with his new boss. He politely refused but thanked her when she insisted. 

He got a surprise when he pulled out the chair to find Dewi, the other resident pet, curled up underneath. Miranda had moved his box but the niffler had gone to sleep there nonetheless. Dewi made an annoyed honking noise at him, rearing up. He bolted for the main Hub in search of his preferred physician. Cameron swept up the feathers and deposited them in the bin, shaking his head. He still couldn’t figure out how a creature managed to survive eating nothing but feathers. He suppose he’d have to figure it out since it would also be his job to act as xeno-veterinarian. 

Cameron sat down, running his hands on the desk’s surface. He didn’t care that it was old and beat up. He was part of the team. He leaned forward when his hand found a roughness on the surface, near the side. It was a list of initials, about half a dozen names long. They’d been hidden underneath the file bin. He let out a small laugh. _Torchwood graffiti_ …He squinted at the letters. Cameron loved things like this. He looked at each pair, some carved more neatly than others. He chuckled at the last set. It didn’t line up with the others because of the ‘Dr.’ in front of the letters, ‘OH’. 

“Heh,” he said with a smile. He wondered who the hell that was, snickering at the title. He’d have to ask one of the others who it was. There was no MR, so Miranda hadn’t added hers though given how many bloody names the woman had, she could be on the list somewhere. An evil grin came across his face. He looked over his shoulder, making sure he was alone. _Something sharp…_ Even though Miranda had emptied the drawers, he began to search them. Maybe she’d missed something… There was a letter opener. He tested the point and started to carefully carve his own initials under OH’s. 

His head snapped up when Miranda put a stack of file folders on the desk. He began to fluster and started to stammer an apology. She pretended not to notice. 

“These are the medical records for all the resident aliens and riftugees living in Cardiff and the surrounding area,” Miranda said, laying her hand on the files. “Whenever possible, we integrate displaced peoples into the population. Some of them are humans, out of their time. Some are humanoid aliens capable of passing as humans, unnoticed.”  

“Patients?” Cameron asked, surprised. He picked up the top file and opened, starting to read. “Wow…” he said as he continued to flip through the pages. He’d no idea there’d be patients. He had a rubbish bedside manner with human patients. Aliens? Well, they might not mind he was a bit odd. In fact, his odd manner might be perfectly normal to them. A small click brought his head up. 

Miranda had opened a small knife and laid it on top of the files. “This should work better.” She tapped the top pair of initials, EW. She gave him a slight wink. “Welcome to Torchwood, Cameron.” 

He laughed but didn’t get to ask her what the EW stood for. He picked up the small blade. Now with a proper, sharp tool in hand, he finished carving the CM into the desk. He sat back to admire his handiwork. He should probably give the weapon back to Miranda but, instead, put the blade into the desk drawer. _Never know_ … he thought. That woman did seem to walk around armed to the teeth. She’d likely no miss it. 

He picked up the next file and started to read. It didn’t take long for the information to captivate him. It wasn’t just the medical records, it was also the notes his predecessors had left. _Doctor Owen Harper_ … he read with a smile. He quickly connected the initials to their names as he continued to voraciously read, losing himself in files. He felt terribly for these people. They could never go home again. They were stranded on an alien world or in a strange time far away from their families and loved ones. 

As for medical care, the humans wouldn’t be a problem but the aliens? He wanted to give these people the best they could get given the circumstances and that meant learning. He spread out physiology and anatomy textbooks, trying to compare what was known about the alien species to humans. Ianto had even kindly pulled some files from the archives for him. It was past nine when Jack clapped him on the shoulder, startling him a bit. 

“Good job today, Cam. Bright and early tomorrow, okay? Seven?” 

“Aye, thanks Jack,” Cameron said with a smile. He turned back to the report in his hands. 

“I mean it. Out,” he chastised, sternly. 

Obediently, Cameron stood up and reached for his coat. He checked his watch. He had a long walk back to his flat. He’d have to pay more attention to the time in the future. 

“Why do I get the feeling you just want me to get the fuck out of here?” he asked with a laugh. 

“Well, Ianto and I do like the place to ourselves once in a while,” Jack said with a leer.

Cameron chuckled. “Quick office shag before you go home, eh? You do strike me as the type who’d photocopy their bum. Be sure to wipe my desk down if you use it.” 

Jack threw his head back and laughed. “This is home.” 

“Beg pardon?” Cameron asked, startled. 

“Ianto and I… we live here.” 

“You live here? In the Hub?” Cameron laughed. “So you do shag here!” 

Jack laughed too. “Like I said, we like the place to ourselves once in a while but we can always use one more for naked hide and seek.” 

“Wee bit nippy in here for that isn’t it?” Cameron said with another deep laugh. 

He’d thought Jack was making a joke until Ianto said from the top of the autopsy bay stairs, “He cheats. He always cheats.” 

A look passed between the two men that Cameron didn’t understand. Jack bounded up the stairs and took Ianto’s hand. 

“Go home, Cameron. That’s an order,” Jack said as he walked away with Ianto. 

Cameron smiled fondly at them. He hoped one day he was as lucky. He laughed. _As if any woman could put up with me…_ He let out a small laugh to himself. _Maybe I’m playing for the wrong team_ … 

Fish was walking towards the autopsy bay just as the couple was walking away from it. Jack nodded to Fish and Fish nodded in reply. He stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to Cameron. 

“Any plans tonight?” Fish asked, trying to force conversation. 

“Nothing grand,” Cameron said, a bit embarrassed. He was putting on his coat. “Telly and sleep I suppose.” 

“No one to go home to? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?” Fish asked.

Cameron shook his head. “Just a cat.” 

“Well, in that case, why don’t you come enjoy some popcorn and a movie with me and mine?” Fish said, flashing Cameron a friendly smile. 

“It’s kind of getting on isn’t it?” Cameron said. What he hadn’t told Ianto and Fish was that as well as being bad with people, he suffered from social anxiety. He often felt he had no idea how to act or what to say around others. Joining the Torchwood team had been exciting and fantastic but also taxing that anxiety. The last thing Cameron wanted was to be thrust into another social situation with another new person. 

“Just a drink then. I won’t take no for an answer,” Fish said, laughing. “C’mon. My car’s this way.” 

Not knowing how to say no when Fish seemed so keen, Cameron followed him. The silence in the car on the way to Fish’s loft was awkward and nervous. Fish unlocked the door and shuffled Cameron inside. He immediately pointed at their trainers and the small bench. “Shoes… Sorry, Henry doesn’t like me to track in dirt…” 

Cameron looked around nervously. The loft was quite posh looking and he felt even more out of place. When he’d gone to the cash point, his eyes had gone wide at his first month’s advance but they hadn’t gone this wide. He wondered what Fish’s fiancé did for a living. Something that paid well, he reckoned. 

“Henry?” Fish looked around and didn’t see Henry anywhere. “Make yourself at home, Cam. Beer?” 

“Aye, that’d be great, thanks,” he said, dropping his trainers by the door. 

A man came out of the hallway at the far side of the loft. Cameron immediately recognised him from the digital frame on Fish’s desk. The pictures didn’t do him justice. The camera had added a few years and even though his hair was greying at the temples, his face was extremely young. In fact, Cameron thought it was such a shame he was greying at such a young age. He gave Cameron a warm smile and held out his hand. He said, stiffly, “Henry Blount, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor MacDonald.”  

The perfect received pronunciation made Cameron want to flinch. The only place he heard someone speak like that was on the telly. Henry made Cameron even more nervous. There was a polish to him, a self assured air that shined a spotlight on Cameron’s own social insecurity. He swiftly connected the points in his head. Henry was nobility. The comfort displayed around him was likely from some sort of family money. 

“Cam, please,” he said as he nervously shook Henry’s hand.  

Fish appeared with a bottle of beer and handed it to Cameron who took it and immediately drank down half of it to calm his nerves. 

“Thanks,” he said, wiping his lip. He looked back and forth between Fish and Henry. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late. I didn’t want to impose but Joe insisted.” 

“Yes, he is like that,” Henry said. He gave Fish a strange look and then turned back to Cameron. “Would you mind giving me a hand in the kitchen, Cam?” 

“Surely,” he said with a smile. He got the distinct impression that Henry didn’t want him here. Maybe Fish had sprung him on his partner as a guest last minute. While he helped Henry with the popcorn and crisps, he kept trying to think of an excuse to leave but he had no car. Fish had driven him here and his flat was on the opposite side of town. He had a very long walk home and he couldn’t figure out how to leave without appearing rude.  

Fish sighed. “Bugger, my mobile’s dead. How’s your Cam? Jack always needs us to be reachable.” 

Cameron took the bowl from Henry and reached into his back pocket. It was a good thing Fish had said something. His battery was nearly dead. _Bugger, charged it this morning…_ “Mine too. Do you mind if I use your charger?”

“Nope,” Fish said as he took Cameron’s phone from him. When Cameron turned back to help Henry, Fish didn’t plug the phone in. Instead, he subtly slipped it into his pocket. He muttered, “Excuse me… loo.” 

He went into the bedroom and shut the door. He turned the water on in the en suite. He laid Cameron’s mobile on the dresser and then took out his own PDA. He hit a few buttons, activating the right programs and the mobile unlocked. He activated another program, uploading the virus to Cameron’s mobile. The virus was their standard surveillance version. Fish checked the app on his own mobile, checking to make sure it was working properly. The bedroom door opened suddenly and Fish looked up, alarmed. 

“It’s just me, Joe,” Henry said, annoyed. 

“You fucking scared me, Henry. I thought it was Cam,” Fish said, waving at the mobile in front of him. 

“He’s selecting a film,” Henry said. He frowned at his lover. “I find this most distasteful.” 

“I’m sorry, Henry. I know it’s late,” Fish said, honestly apologetic. He tapped on Cameron’s mobile a few times and then looked his own PDA. 

“It is not the hour to which I am objecting,” Henry said, angry. “This deception is loathsome.” 

“Gwen and I are the only ones who have normal lives. It’s not like Jack and Ianto can ask him down into the bunker for tea now is it? Rhys is out with his mates tonight so that left me. C’mon. We can’t leave him out there by himself.” 

They went back out into the lounge to continue their charade. Fish plugged in their mobiles to charge. The alien device he’d hidden in his glove box had depleted both batteries. He sat down and flicked his gaze to Cameron’s beer. There was still half left. Fish sighed. The dosage of retcon he’d slipped into the bottle was very small. If Cameron didn’t finish most of the bottle, he’d likely only become drowsy, not fall asleep entirely which was what Fish needed. 

They watched the movie. Fish kept a careful eye on how much Cameron drank and halfway through, he hoped that it had been enough. He needn’t have worried. Cameron finished the rest of the beer and by the time the movie was nearly over, Fish saw Cameron’s head fall back. A few seconds later, he began to snore. Henry, who’d also been watching their guest like a hawk, turned off the television. 

“Cam?” Fish said, tentatively. He reached over and shook the man’s shoulder. “Cameron?” He looked up at Henry. “I think he’s out. Grab his feet, Henry.” 

After giving his lover a look of death, Henry obeyed. He scooped up Cameron’s legs and together, they carried him to the guest room. They laid him down on one side of the bed. While Henry turned down the blankets, Fish took out the bag he’d hidden in the drawer. Henry stood up, unable to contain his anger any longer. 

Henry hissed in a low voice, “This man is a guest in our home! We’ve deceived him… drugged him… I cannot condone this, Joe!” 

“I’m sorry, Henry,” Fish repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. He opened the bag and took out the syringe, an alcohol wipe and some gauze. “It’s standard procedure - bug and tag. I need your help to do this.” 

“They did this to you?” Henry asked, appalled. 

Fish nodded. He tapped the side of his neck. “Gwen and Rhys invited me over for a spagbol. I woke up the next morning on their sofa. No fucking idea. Rhys was laughing like mad, said he thought Aussies could hold their liquor better.” He cleared his throat and asked, as delicately as he could, “Could you hold his head for me, Henry… I… I need both hands to do this.” 

Henry turned Cameron on his side and tilted his head backwards, holding it steady. Fish winced at how his lover was looking at him. _If looks could kill…_ He took the alcohol wipe out of its packet and began cleaning a spot on Cameron’s neck. He pinched the skin, trying to tent it as Miranda had shown him. “Give me a little more slack, Henry. Tilt his chin down.” 

Again, Henry obeyed, staring daggers into the top of his lover’s head. Fish tried to ignore it as he pinched again. He pushed the needle in and depressed the plunger, depositing the small tracking device beneath Cameron’s skin. 

“Christ I hope I did that right. Evie went on about ‘the subcutaneous space’ and ‘lymph nodes’ and ‘major vessels’. I can’t understand her when she goes on in all that medical bollocks,” he said with a sigh. He was mostly muttering to himself. He withdrew the large needle and pressed the gauze into the wound. “Put pressure here, Henry.” 

While Henry saw to the small puncture, Fish took his PDA out of his other pocket and checked the proper app. He stepped towards the door to put some space between his own tracker and Cameron’s. He smirked at the second dot on the screen. “Hello there, Cameron MacDonald.”

Fish walked back over to the bed. He lifted the gauze. In the morning, Cameron would think he’d cut himself shaving. Fish rolled him on his back and then pulled the blankets up over him.  

Henry rubbed at the side of his own neck. “I certainly hope you have not implanted one of those infernal devices in me.” 

“You’re not Torchwood, Henry. Even if you were, we can’t. Your immortal physiology won’t let us,” Fish said, not looking up from the PDA. “Ianto’s body rejected the implant after his first death. Evie and Jack don’t have one either.” 

Fish walked out of the room with Henry and shut the door behind them. 

“He will be unharmed by mixing the sedative with the alcohol?” Henry asked. 

“Retcon doesn’t work that way. He’s not asleep. It’s not a sedative. Loss of consciousness is a side effect of the memory block,” Fish replied. “He’ll only lose about an hour of his memory. He’ll think he fell asleep during the movie.” 

“While I am usually happy to assist you and your colleagues with your work, Joe, you will refrain from using me in this manner in the future,” Henry ordered in a low voice. He stormed away from his lover into their bedroom. 

Normally, that tone made Fish angrier than a kicked hornets’ nest and he never would have allowed Henry to get away with using it but this time, he let it slide. There was something about the depth of Henry’s anger that Fish was missing. He didn’t understand it. Fish was just doing his job. In fact, this was almost like a Torchwood rite of passage - a bit of hazing along with formal procedure. Sure, it wasn’t the nicest thing to do and Fish could see how Henry may have found childish but he was much angrier than Fish thought he should be. There was something else going on here. 

Since Henry didn’t slam the bedroom door at him, he took that to mean he was welcome in their bed tonight. He stepped into the room but prepared himself to be ejected. Henry was in the en suite, going through his routine and said nothing. Normally, they would have gotten ready for bed together but Fish gave space tonight. He pretended to fiddle with his mobile as he waited for Henry to finish in the washroom. Once Henry emerged, Fish stood up and took his own turn. Henry didn’t look at him once, nor did he say anything. 

When he walked back into the bedroom, the light was out and Henry was pretending to be asleep. Fish climbed into bed. He could feel the chill coming from Henry who was turned away from him. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The morning had been very awkward as Cameron had shared breakfast with a couple who were clearly having a domestic. He hadn’t wanted to linger in the loft any longer than he had to and he hadn’t wanted to borrow clothes from either man. He already felt like a complete twat, spending the night uninvited in their home. So immediately after breakfast Cameron had nearly begged Fish to return to his flat so he could shower, change clothes and pick up a few things. He also desperately needed to feed his cat. 

Fish had agreed, driving him down into a dodgy part of Grangetown. Cameron had let Fish, a bit embarrassed. Henry and Fish’s loft was grand, large and richly furnished. Cameron had nothing close to that kind of luxury. His flat was, in fact, a completely dump but it was all he could afford. The wait lists for council housing were long and he’d moved to Cardiff quickly so he’d rented privately. He’d taken what he could get on such short notice for so little money. 

When he’d stopped at the cash point yesterday, the salary advance had surprised him as much as it had relieved him. He’d assumed his salary would be modest but he’d been wrong. Even though he’d accumulated some debt, as soon as he had some of that salary saved, he planned to move into something better. 

He showered and shaved as quickly as he could. He felt badly for leaving Fish in his lounge with nothing but his cat, Six, for company but he didn’t know that Fish wasn’t just sitting on his sofa. While Cameron had been passed out in Fish and Henry’s guest room, Ianto had broken into the small flat to install audio and video surveillance. After scratching Six’s head, Fish got up and began scanning for gaps. He occasionally cast the feline a nervous glance. He swore the cat knew what he was doing and was giving him an accusatory look. Ianto had done a good job and there appeared to be no gaps. They’d respected Cameron’s privacy as much as they could, placing video surveillance in the combination lounge and kitchen area. There was audio only in the bedroom and loo. 

Fish was in the bedroom, holding his PDA up to the en suite door to check the audio in that room, when his mobile vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from Gwen. There’d been another body and Jack wanted everyone at the scene. With a sigh he rapped his knuckles on the en suite door. 

“Cameron, mate? We’ve got to get going. There’s another body in Bute Park,” he said, loudly. 

Cameron nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Fish knock. He shouted, “Be right out!” 

He rinsed off and dried lightning fast. He stepped back into his bedroom and tossed on the first pair of jeans and shirt he laid his hands on. His hair was still wet when he sat on the sofa next to Fish to put on his trainers. Fish noted the small dot of toilet paper on his neck where he’d inserted the tracker. 

“You said it’s in Bute Park?” 

Fish nodded, his keys in his hands. 

“It’s not another PC is it?” Cameron asked, worried. 

“No,” he said, relieved. “It looks like it may have been an early morning jogger. Poor sod.”

Cameron winced. “Aye, like you said yesterday, ‘Wrong fucking place, wrong fucking time.’” 

Even though they were in a hurry now, he waited patiently while Cameron put out what Fish thought was an obscenely large amount of food for his cat. He also waited while Cameron collected a few items from his flat - a mug, a tennis ball, and for some bizarre reason, a small, manky looking trainer missing its lacing that looked like it belonged to a child. Cameron dropped all the items into a small grocery sack and they walked to Fish’s car. They were the last to arrive as Cameron’s flat was a bit out of the way. 

Once again, there was more of a police presence than required. Gwen was talking to the jogger who found the body. Ianto was talking to one of the PC’s. Cameron remembered the man’s name from yesterday - Andy Davidson. Jack was looking down at the body, covered in a tarp. Miranda was kneeling beside it. Jack looked up. With his hand at his side, he pointed at the ground with two fingers and then one. He made a circulation motion with his hand. Fish nodded and patted Cameron on the shoulder. “Jack wants us to walk the scene.” 

Cameron mentally filed away the hand signal and followed Fish. He looked up at Jack again. The immortal man caught his eye and scratched at his neck. _Shit_ … Cameron reached up and picked the piece of toilet paper off of his neck. He jogged to catch up to Fish. 

Fish explained, “When they’re first on the scene, the police do most of the work for us. They tape off the area and search but they’re looking for normal, planet bound clues. We’re looking for something different.” 

Fish held up his PDA and showed Cameron the screen. “This program scans for rift energy. It’s our primary means of finding items that have dropped through the rift. This scanner has a very limited range. When we walk the scene, we move like there’s an invisible grid on the ground. Walk and scan, but look up, down to the left and right. Use the scanner but don’t forget your senses. Look for anything out of place. Anything, no matter how ridiculous could be significant.” 

Cameron started walking in front of Fish with the PDA in hand. He tried his best, looking about while keeping half an eye on the screen. Fish was right next to him, watching his every move. When they reached the body, they stopped. Miranda waved, indicating she wanted Cameron with her. 

“You did good, mate,” Fish said, taking the PDA from him. 

Cameron knelt, flipping back the tarp. 

“Your assessment, Doctor MacDonald?” Miranda asked from behind him. 

Cameron flicked his eyes up and down the corpse. He pointed at the forearms and the hands. “I don’t see anything obviously alien but there are defensive wounds. There’s something caked under his nails. If it was an alien, we can’t let the police get a hold of that DNA.” 

Jack’s hand came down on his shoulder and Cameron looked up. He hadn’t heard him approach. “Thinking outside the planet. Bag him up, Cam. Will’ll help you.” 

It didn’t take long for him and Miranda to get the body loaded into the SUV. Fish didn’t find anything at the scene so the body was all the evidence they had and Cameron knew how careful he needed to be with it. He unloaded the body bag onto the trolley as carefully as he could with Ianto’s help. Together, the two of them wheeled it into the autopsy bay. This time, Miranda laid out the instruments for a full autopsy while Ianto and Cameron set the body out on the table.

Miranda gave Ianto a thankful smile and handed Cameron a gown. The other physician put it on, tying it securely around his waist. He turned, Miranda tying the top of the gown closed. After he returned the favour, he picked up the scraper and held it out to Miranda but she stepped aside. 

“Go ahead,” she said, waving at the corpse. 

At first, when he stepped forward, Cameron was nervous. With his own gloved hand, he picked up each of the corpse’s fingers, carefully scraping under the nails. This process was familiar to him and it relaxed him. Each sample he carefully collected, setting aside for Fish to analyze later. All the alien strangeness was new to him but this wasn’t and, for the first time since walking through Torchwood’s doors, he felt sure of himself. He knew what to do. He knew each step. As the two of them went through the post mortem, Cameron became more and more sure of himself. By the time the y-incision was closed, he had a deep sense of satisfaction. Once the body was back in its bag, Miranda handed him the light blue tag. 

“Light blue?” he asked, looping the tie through the hole in the zipper.

“The colour coding system. Light blue indicates the body is to be held in cold storage,” Miranda said. After disposing of her protective gear, she turned towards the drawer, opening it. “Ifan likes order. Each colour indicates the body’s fate.” 

Cameron craned his neck. He come across the tags while he was looking around but hadn’t realised they were for the bodies since there so many different colours. He didn’t know whether or not the organisation should impress him or the variety surprise him. In the end, he decided on both. 

“So what was the dark blue yesterday?” he asked, figuring he should start learning them now. 

“Hold in cold storage, to be returned to Heddlu Gwent,” Miranda said, smoothly. 

“I guess it’s a bad time to point out that I have deuteranopia,” Cameron said with a laugh. 

“You’re red-green colour blind?” Miranda asked, surprised. “I’ll have Ifan work something out.” 

“I hope it won’t be a problem…” he said, nervous.

“Not at all, Cam. We’ll work around it,” Miranda assured. “It didn’t give you trouble in medical school?” 

“It did,” he said with an annoyed snort. “Anything with a microscope was a torture because I couldn’t distinguish between certain stain uptakes.” 

“We’ll keep it in mind,” she said and then suddenly remembered something she’d forgotten. “Which reminds me. I still need to perform a full physical on you.” 

“Oh well, doesn’t that sound like a wee bit of fun,” Cameron said grabbed hold of the trolley. 

“We could have a hand to hand combat lesson in the gym instead,” Miranda suggested. 

He laughed. “I think you’d kick my arse six ways to Sunday.” 

Miranda smiled. “We’ll train you up.” 

“Got those samples for me, mate?” Fish asked from the top of the stairs. 

“Aye,” Cameron said, nodding at the instrument table. 

Fish put on some gloves and picked the jars up. He shook them, watching the reddish flakes move back and forth. “Looks like blood, Evie.” 

Miranda nodded. “It does. If it is, give one of the samples back to me so I can run it through our machines.” 

“You want DNA?” Fish asked, walking up the stairs. 

“Please,” she called without turning around. 

Cameron leaned, hitting the lift button and it descended. When the doors opened, he turned right towards the cold storage units. At the hospitals he’d worked, it had been simple. There’d been a morgue and that was that. Here? There were several and Cameron didn’t understand it in the slightest. What he understood even less were the warm and hot morgues. He decided not to even ask. Once the body was back in place, he shut the door and secured the lock. On his way back up, a morbid curiosity got the better of him.

Instead of going back up the stairs, he turned and walked down towards the main morgue. He stood in front of the wall of crypts. His eyes moving over each one in turn. Each drawer had a white label on it, many yellowed and discoloured with age. He wondered a lot of things about the people inside them. He wondered about what they’d been like - if they’d been funny or blonde or hated gherkins. He wondered which ones belonged to the initials he’d seen on his desk. He wondered if Jack, Ianto or Miranda would be able to tell him. The three of them seemed to have been around for quite a long time. How horrible it must be for them to have buried so many friends while they themselves went on and on through time. 

A shiver went through him, as if someone had walked over his grave. He looked up at the ceiling and realised that people were, in fact, walking over his grave. Here is where he would rest and Torchwood would go on above him. He’d been quite distressed to learn that his wonderful new job would kill him. He’d been downright disturbed to learn that once it did, all his worldly possessions would be put into Torchwood storage and his body would remain forever entombed in the bowels of the Hub. The idea of making the ultimate sacrifice, of giving his life for humanity was immense. He’d always wanted to make the world a better place. He wanted to do his part but he hadn’t expected his part to be so… big. Saving the world? It was too much. As he gazed upwards, he could feel the weight of the entire planet crushing down on him. It was nearly suffocating. 

He supposed it wouldn’t matter much. No one in the outside world would miss him. He’d no family nor friends. He supposed he should get his affairs in order but why? He didn’t really own all that much and everything would be going into storage anyway. There’d be no funeral and no one to come to it anyway… though he should probably see to someone taking care of his cat. He felt a bit of a cold sweat popping out on his palms as he turned away from the drawers. It bothered him that his life would end so soon and that no one would know why or even care. It frightened him that instead of possibly living to a ripe old age, that an early grave was a guarantee. He expected he’d deal with it in his own way over time. He knew that he was a part of something important and that kept him from running away from here screaming.  

He’d manage to survive. He’d always been a survivor. His parents had died when he was little and he’d survived foster carer after foster carer. He’d managed not to become a casualty of the system. He was a physician. He was Torchwood. And that thought made his mouth quirk into a small smile. He paused at the top of the stairs, touching the smooth Victorian tile. He liked it here. For the first time, he felt settled. He’d never had a real home… _Home?_  

The idea struck him, and with a spring in his step, he walked across the main Hub. Jack’s office door was closed so he wisely knocked. The response was immediate. 

“Come in!” Jack shouted. 

Cameron opened the door to find Ianto and Jack sitting on the sofa. Ianto had his leg draped over Jack’s and Jack’s hand was on his thigh. Cameron had never seen the Welshman so dressed down. His suit jacket was off and his tie was loosened. The top buttons of his collar were undone. It looked… odd.

“I was wondering if I could have a word, Jack?” he asked. 

“Sure, Cam,” Jack said, brightly. 

Ianto leaned, giving his husband a peck on the cheek and then stood up. He went about returning himself to his usual pristine appearance and asked, “I’ll be ordering lunch shortly. Any requests?” 

“Surprise me,” Cameron replied. 

With his suit jacket over his arm, Ianto left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. 

Jack, assuming this was a professional conversation, put his hands on his knees, pushing himself to his feet. He walked over to his desk and stepped behind it. He didn’t sit, though, he remained standing. He shifted some papers on his desk and and asked, “What’s on your mind, Cam?”

“You said yesterday that you and Ianto live here?” 

“Yeah…” Jack nodded slowly, not knowing where Cameron was taking this. 

“Joe said something about there being a lot of empty storage rooms set up for a quick kip?” 

“Yeah…” Jack repeated, still not understanding. 

“The flat I’m in, it’s a bit of a dump, but it’s all I could afford-“

“I thought Ianto advanced you a month already. If you need money, Cam-”

“No, no,” Cameron interrupted. “Nothing like that. I just… You said you and Ianto live here. I was wondering if I could too. Just temporary until I find somewhere better and closer.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow. Most operatives were more than glad to keep something outside of Torchwood. He, Ianto and Miranda were the general exception but there had been a few who’d lived in the staterooms over the decades… including Captain Hart. It would make the standard surveillance easier since the staterooms were hooked into the Hub’s security system and had full audio and video coverage. 

“The staterooms aren’t the most comfortable place to live,” Jack pointed out. 

“I don’t need much. I mean, I don’t want to intrude either…” he trailed off. 

“You’re not, Cam,” Jack said, smiling. “If you want to move in downstairs, you’re welcome to.” 

“Wicked! Thanks, Jack!” he happily exclaimed. Then his face immediately fell. “I have a cat…” 

Jack furrowed his brow. “I can’t promise it’ll be safe from Myfanwy.” 

“I won’t let her wander about. She’s just real old,” Cameron insisted. He couldn’t bear to part with the old feline. He’d started feeding her as a stray many years ago. She’d taken to him and had followed him from one foster carer to the next. He’d no idea how she’d found him every time. He’d even taken her to medical school with him. 

“Keep her out of the main Hub. Dewi might not like her either,” Jack warned. 

There was a knock at the door and Jack called out again, “Come in!” 

It was Fish. “Hey, Jack. I have some results for you.” 

“That was fast,” Jack said, holding out his hand for the papers. 

Fish handed the stack of paper to Jack. “It’s because everything Cam and Evie scraped out from under the bloke’s nails was a known substance. Bloody first time that’s ever happened. I know you like to regroup at lunch or the end of day but I thought you should see this now. That jogger scratched his attacker up good. Once I determined the substance was biological, I ran it through that funny blood scanner. There was a lot of blood and skin, way more than that machine needed. There were some error messages so I’m guessing we have a partial human. Probably something greater than eighty percent because the machine didn’t go completely spare.” 

“Partial human? What does that have to do with the machine?” 

Jack turned to Cameron. “When people move out into space, we meet other species. It wasn’t long before we start interbreeding.” He tapped the paper in front of him. “It wasn’t common when this machine’s from. It’s a human blood analyser.” 

“If the sample is completely human, it spits out results. If it’s completely alien, it says it’s alien. If the sample is partially alien but mostly human, it gives me a few error messages about sample contamination. The less human, the more error messages I get. Anything less than seventy, seventy five percent, and the machine spits enough error messages to paper the Hub floor,” Fish explained. He leaned over shifted the pages in Jack’s hand, flipping to the third page. He tapped one of the lines. “This is why I wanted to show you now.” 

“Papaver ten? Somniferine eight?” Jack said, alarmed. 

“It also popped out some sort of enzyme inhibiter. No use though, just a name,” Fish said.

“An enzyme inhibitor? What’s the other two, then?” Cameron asked. 

“Narcotics,” Fish supplied. “About twenty times more potent than heroin. Bloke’s high as a kite. We had some come through once. What a bloody mess that was.” 

“Those three means nothing good,” Jack said. He sat down, flipping open his wrist strap and began tapping on the device. Cameron, curious, leaned in. He’d seen the strap on Jack’s wrist, the man never seemed to take it off. He had no idea what it was or what it did but he often saw Jack tapping at the device and reading the tiny display. Cameron desperately wanted to ask about it but it was one of those rare times where he knew his question would be neither proper nor answered. 

“Is this everything the tox screen found?” Jack asked, without looking up. 

“Yeah, Jack. The papaver and the other drugs,” Fish said, shaking his head. 

“It’s worse than that, Fish,” Jack said, closing the leather flap. “Can you get everyone into the board room?”

“Sure, Jack,” Fish said. He jerked his head at the office door and Cameron followed him. 

Neither man thought it was a good sign how hard Jack scrubbed at his face as they left.


	7. Chapter 7

Ianto had ordered curry for everyone but it was sitting untouched in the middle of the boardroom table. Everyone was in their usual seats with Jack at the head. He leaned forward, planted his hands on the table and spoke with his head bowed. He spoke as if confessing a crime. 

“As most of you know, in the future, humanity heads out into space and creates the Great and Bountiful Human Empire," he said, softly. They’d all heard this already but Jack was speaking for Cameron’s benefit, looking at their new physician. “It’s made up of three galaxies, ours and the Canis Major Dwarf and the Sagittarius Dwarf Sphere. In the year 4120, a sector of the Canis Major experienced a civil war that raged on for over a century. The Empire didn't much care about the lives of the people in the outer colonies… at first. A few decades into the conflict, all they wanted to do was squash down the war and reassert control. Mostly it was about money. Some key energy resources had stopped coming in from that region. It was the reason the fighting had started in the first place." 

"Like how we fight over oil," Fish interjected. 

“Exactly,” Jack said with a sad nod. "They sent in soldiers, lots and lots of soldiers. It was a massive army of unimaginable numbers. There was an elite group, a special forces within the army called The Paragon.”  

"I don't like the sound of this at all, Jack," Miranda said, her eyes hooded. Her fingers were steepled in front of her face. 

"You shouldn't, Will, because the Paragon, they were a last resort - a final measure. It was the Empire's ultimate threat… surrender or we'll set the Paragon on you. The Empire poured massive amounts of money and resources into creating these soldiers. They're genetically engineered for greater strength, endurance and intelligence and they can withstand massive amounts of pain. Think the Bourne Identity on steroids and PCP. The Paragon are the reason that by the time the fifty first century rolled around, there were strict laws governing genetic manipulation. Genetic tampering is a serious offence in my time." 

Cameron stifled the gasp that almost escaped his mouth. Jack had said The Paragon came from the forty second century and had just implied that he came from a time after that. Jack Harkness was from the future? The fifty first century? Was everyone in the fifty first century immortal? Had humanity found the holy grail of eternal youth and life? Were Ianto and Miranda from the future as well? Ianto hadn’t exactly given him a lot of details about their immortality. He’d just told him the three operatives were capable of dying if injured enough but that they would come back to life. 

"Christ, Jack…" Fish said. 

"We need to find him. He'll go to ground. He'll hide out. He won't know there isn't a war on." 

“The analysis says it’s male and mostly human. Are you certain that he’s one of these soldiers, Jack?" Miranda asked.

“Positive.” He tapped the tablet in front of him and Fish’s analysis came up. “Remember that drugs stash that came through in the seventies, Will? Those narcotics? These narcotics were specially engineered for the Paragon. They were the reason it was developed. It’s long lasting and highly addictive. These two others? The combination of the the three is what tipped me off.” 

"Can we help him, Jack?" Gwen asked. 

Jack shook his head sadly. "There's no saving them, Gwen. Their missions nearly always ended in suicide." 

"We shoot to kill then?" Miranda asked. 

"Yes, and we do, otherwise you’ll just get them angry and then you'll be in real trouble," Jack said. 

Gwen nodded and then said, "They must be profoundly brainwashed to keep them loyal."  

“There was the odd deserter,” Jack said but then held his hand up to silence Gwen. “Not for the reason you think. When they made these people, they made them disposable. They didn’t bother with the details. They’ve got more than a few screws loose. Most of them are close to snapping and we’ve all seen what happens then. That’s where the failsafe drug came in.” 

“Is that what the enzyme inhibitor’s for?” Cameron asked. 

Jack nodded. “They’re genetically engineered to create a protein that will completely strip the myelin from their nerve cells. The failsafe, the enzyme inhibitor, stops that from happening. That and the narcotic addiction, kept them under control. Well, as under control as they could be.” 

“Goddess below,” Miranda swore, shaking her head. “Without the drug, his nervous system will suffer complete demyelination and collapse.”

“He’d be unable to maintain basic functions… heart beat… breathing… It’d be a horrific way to die,” Cameron said, horrified. 

“Like I said, disposable,” Jack said, sadly. “The Empire knew the most about the human genome so that's what they worked with. They spliced in some alien where it suited them but they made these soldiers in a rush and they weren’t too careful. They didn’t care because they didn’t need to live long. They were cloned en masse. They're genetically manipulated to reach full maturity in five years. They don't know anything other than the cloning facility they're grown in.” 

"Star Wars meets Josef Mengele," Fish muttered and Jack nodded. 

“Unstable, strung out… a near fatal combination for anyone who encounters him," Miranda said. "What kind of withdrawal are we talking about here, Jack? Would he seek medical attention or a twenty first century equivalent?" 

"I don't know if there is one, Will, and I don't know what the withdrawal will be like either," Jack said with a sigh. “Modern day heroin might work but he wouldn’t know that or how to get any. I don’t think he’d go to an A&E.” 

Cameron knocked lightly on the table. “How much of the failsafe drug will he have on him? If we can wait this out…” 

“We can’t rely on that,” Jack said and then looked at the mortal members of the team. "Ianto, Will and I are the only ones who are going to be out looking for him."

Gwen and Fish started to protest. 

Miranda slapped the flat of her hand down onto the table. "No, Jack is right, everyone. This man is far too dangerous.” The immortal woman cast a very serious glare at Gwen. 

“You want me to call Henry, Jack?” Fish asked, hesitantly. 

Jack nodded, grateful Fish had mentioned it. He’d been about to ask. “Yeah, Fish, if he doesn’t mind.” 

“We need to warn people. Ifan? Concoct some story… a soldier just returned from abroad with severe PTSD. Something. We need to get the local media involved; make the public aware." 

Jack nodded. “Cam? Gwen? Fish? I want all three of you on the CCTV from the jogger. It’s our best lead. We need this one fast. Will? Hang back a minute.” 

The team dispersed and the two immortals were alone. Jack walked down to the foot of the table and leaned against its edge. 

"What do you think?" Jack asked, nodding at the main Hub. 

"He's eager, intelligent and adapting quickly,” Miranda said, inclining her head, “It's too soon to tell but I’m optimistic.”  

“Agreed. We can still retcon him if we need to." 

“He’s fitting into the team well,” Miranda pointed out. 

Jack nodded again. “He asked if he could move into the staterooms temporarily.” 

“Getting a bit crowded here isn’t it?” Miranda said, dryly.

“It’ll make the surveillance easier,” Jack pointed out. He wanted to voice his bitterness but he knew it would put Miranda on the defensive. Keeping his tone as flat as possible, he said, “Once Cam’s settled, I thought you were leaving. It’s why we’re rushing so many of the procedures and pushing him to be field ready.” 

It didn’t matter. She was on the defensive anyway. 

“Are we really going to do this now, Jack?” She asked, sarcastically, “Would you like an official letter of resignation?” 

“You’re free to come and go, Will. I’ve never asked you for any explanations.” He crossed his arms over his chest. 

“And now you are?” she said, her voice dripping with scorn. She was baiting him, just begging to start a row and he wasn’t going to be the one do to that this time. 

“You don’t owe me or Torchwood anything,” Jack said, a bit defensive himself. He took a deep breath to keep his temper in check. He didn’t want her to leave. He was used to her flitting in and out, but since she’d returned in 2008, it had been one of her longest stays. Her position was different now, too. Instead of being just another field operative, she was his second in command. Jack had always been understanding, allowing her departures without so much as a question. Now? He wanted to figure out how he could keep her here. He loved her and he was worried about her and those were the last two things he should say in the same sentence. It would put her even more on the defensive. Instead, he went for what Miranda responded to the most - raw honesty. 

“It would mean a lot to me if you stayed,” was his vulnerable whisper. He reach down for her hand. “To all of us.” 

He saw the guilt flash across her face. He hadn’t said a thing to the others. Jack really had no idea who it would hit the hardest. Gwen would likely feel personally betrayed, as would Ianto. Jack thought Fish would be understanding but the Australian was taking the disappearance of Captain Hart quite personally. He also wondered if Miranda would bother saying goodbye to any of them. In the past, like Captain Hart, she’d simply vanished into the night sometimes without so much as a word. He’d been quite surprised she’d given him any notice at all even though her departure would leave Torchwood without a physician rather than just short handed in the field. 

She stood up and slipped her fingers into his shirt between the buttons. She eased her hand up and down along the cloth, her thumb tracing the edge of a button. Her other hand cupped his face and then moved its way downward to his shoulder and then his arm. She squeezed his hand, gently twisting the ring on his finger. She repaid his honesty with some of her own. 

“If Ifan had truly died by that alien beast’s poison or by Carl Brogen’s blade, what would you have done, Jack?” she asked. 

He closed his eyes and swallowed convulsively. The answer was obvious. He would’ve fled as far and as fast as he could. There was probably no time or planet that would be far enough away to escape the pain. When he opened his eyes and looked into hers, he saw the old haggard look that was all too familiar to him. He should’ve realised the depth of her feelings. He didn’t say anything. He tugged at her arm, trying to draw her into an embrace to comfort her. A moment after she relaxed, she pulled back, gently pushing off Jack’s hand. The hug felt too much like pity. 

Changing the subject back, she said, “These soldiers are genetically engineered for greater intelligence but how educated are they?"

He accepted the subject change. “What do you mean?"

"I mean there's a difference between having a one eighty IQ and knowing pi to ten digits," Miranda said. “The twenty first must be different than the forty second. He’ll realise he’s not in his own time but is he educated enough to realise which century he _is_ in?" 

There was nothing in the boardroom but silence. Miranda gave Jack a look and said, "You have no idea do you?"

"Not a clue," Jack said with a sigh. 

"It would have been useful if you'd paid attention in history class," Miranda said, impatient.

"Hey, ease up, Will," Jack said, defensive. “That time period was out of my territory and when you learn history you get broad strokes, not fine details." 

Miranda said softly, "This isn't going to end well is it, Jack?" 

"No, it isn't," Jack said softly. He shook his head and then scrubbed at his face. "Ianto, can work the story but it won't help. These soldiers? They're lethal. War in my time…  well, there’s a downside to social equality."  

"The innocent will be shown no quarter," Miranda said, coldly. "We're going to have to put him down aren't we?" 

"Yeah, Will, we are."

Miranda let out a sigh. “There’s also one more thing we should discuss…” 


	8. Chapter 8

Cameron was borrowing Miranda’s workstation. Fish hadn’t set up one in the autopsy bay for him yet. It was just as well. He still wasn’t confident with the CCTV program and he doubted he would be for a while. He kept getting up to ask Fish questions. There were just so many keystrokes and buttons and places to click and drag. He was beginning to feel a little bleary eyed from staring at the screen. He rubbed at his burning eyes just as Ianto put a mug of tea down by his side along with a portion of his uneaten lunch. 

“Bit peckish?” he asked with a friendly smile. 

“Aye, thanks Ianto,” he said with a smile of his own. He had no idea how Ianto managed it but the Welshman always knew what he wanted and when. He was just thinking he could use a good cuppa and something to eat. The tea was earl grey with a small dash of sugar, just the way he liked it. He’d never told Ianto that. When he’d ordered from the local Indian restaurant, Ianto had gotten the tikka massala for him and had somehow known he’d like it absolutely tongue searing. He’d never told him that either. Cameron assumed it was some sort of gift. He saw Jack and Miranda making their way from the boardroom into Jack’s office over top of his mug. There was a worried expression on Ianto’s face. 

“Something the matter then?” he asked, in a low voice. 

Ianto held up a hand to silence him. Once the door to Jack’s office was shut, he turned to Cameron and said, “Jack gets that look on his face every time Mandy tells him she needs to talk to him about something.” 

“Never a good sign when any woman says that even if she’s not your wife,” Cameron joked. He started to laugh and Ianto joined in. He watched the two Torchwood leaders closely and they certainly seemed the stags-butting-antlers type. “Bicker like an old married couple, I bet they do.” 

Truthfully, it wasn’t Ianto’s secret to tell but he saw no reason not to let Cameron know now. Poor bloke would find out eventually. 

“She is and they are,” Ianto said with a strange smile. 

“What’s that now?” Cameron’s jaw dropped. He honestly hoped he hadn’t heard Ianto correctly. 

“Mandy and Jack,” Ianto said with a nonchalant shrug. “They were married back in the twenties. It’s-”  

“-complicated, aye. You lot certainly give new meaning to that.” Cameron shook his head and scrubbed at his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched at the top of his head. “I swear, it’s just one thing after another and I’ve not been here even a week!” 

The little pearl had enlightened Gwen and Fish about Miranda and Jack’s behaviour back in the day. Hopefully it would give Cameron the same insight. Particularly when the shouting began, which Ianto knew was due to begin any moment now… 

 _"WHAT?!"_  

The second sound was that of Jack’s hands impacting the top of his desk. The Torchwood captain was livid. He leaned forward, shouting at his second in command. “You’ve been taking her out into the field! What is wrong with you, Will?!” 

“Lower your fucking voice, Jack!” Miranda shouted back. She lowered her own and in a loud whisper said, “She doesn’t want anyone to know! She's already had two miscarriages.” 

Jack pointed out his office window. "She's benched. Effective immediately." 

Miranda mimicked Jack's gesture. She slammed her hand down onto Jack's desk and leaned forward. "Limited duty!”

"She's confined to the Hub, end of story!" Jack said, firmly. 

She slammed her hand down again. "Will you yank your head out of your arse and look at this from her point of view?"

"What does-"

“Take a fucking look around, Jack! This is the _twenty first_ century, not the fifty first! Stop looking at this situation with fifty first century opinions," she shouted, gesturing with her arm. "You pull her out of the field and everyone is going to know that she's pregnant. If she loses this child, she'll have to tell everyone what's happened. Do you have any idea how much pain that will cause her?" 

Jack sighed. In the fifty first century, miscarriage and infertility still existed even with all the advances in medical technology but people viewed it very differently. A miscarriage was nothing to be ashamed about. There was no feeling of failure, no need to find place blame. In fact, people often told others openly so that they could have a larger support base for the loss. _This backwards century…_  

"She's pregnant. She's _not_ going into the field. End of discussion,” Jack snapped. 

"We need her help with the local police on this one, Jack," Miranda insisted. "She understands the limitations." 

Jack leaned back, folding his hands over his chest. He jutted out his chin. “You two’ve already discussed this." 

"I'm her doctor," Miranda said, rolling her eyes at bit at the pouting. 

"You're my second in command," he pouted. 

“She came to me as her doctor," was her own rebuttal and it was a bit of a lie. "There is no reason she can’t continue with limited field duty. I don't want her chasing down Weevils but there's no reason she can’t continue to act as our local liaison in the field.” 

"She doesn't so much as jog," Jack ordered. 

"Yes, Captain," she said. She stood up. "We can discuss more of the particulars later.” 

Jack didn't answer her so she turned and left the room. He sat down in his chair. He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his desk, scrubbing at his face with his hands. Gwen poked her head in through the open door. Nervously, she stepped inside. 

"Jack… I’m sorry…” 

Jack stood up and walked around his desk. He hugged her tightly. "I understand why you didn't tell me." 

"I don’t want anyone to know yet," she said, quietly. “It’s still early.” 

"I know. We'll work something out," he said, still holding her in his arms. 

She gagged a bit. "You still smell like those chili prawns." 

He laughed and cupped her face. "I won't order them anymore. Promise." 

"Sorry," she said, holding her hand up to her mouth. She bolted from the room. 

Jack smiled smiled fondly at her as he remembered, not without a pang of sadness, his own pregnancy. Medical science had advanced a long way by his time and male pregnancy was common. It required a significant amount of medical intervention but it was possible and, by Jack’s time, the risks were minimal. Jack had been young, and oh so stupid. Desperate for the money, he'd entered a surrogacy program. He'd endured the sickness, the hormones and the discomfort… and then it had been over. He'd never even seen the baby. He couldn't believe how attached he'd become to a child that wasn't even his, who he'd never even seen. They’d wanted to use him again immediately because he'd taken to the procedure so well, but, heartbroken, Jack had refused. He had the money he'd needed anyway… the money that get him to the planet capital to sit the entrance examinations for the Time Agency. 

He scrubbed at his face, clearing the memory from his mind. He got up and walked out of his office towards the loo. He knocked on the door lightly. "Gwen? You okay in there?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "You can come in, Jack." 

Jack turned the knob and stuck his head into the room. Gwen was standing in front of the sink, rinsing her mouth. 

"It gets better," he said, quietly. "Around week twelve this'll be over. Promise. You need to drink more water and eat a lot of crackers. It's good to always have something bland in your stomach. Small meals throughout the day. Nothing too salty or too greasy and whatever you do, do not nap after you’ve had a fair bit of food.” 

Gwen rinsed her mouth at the sink. She rolled her eyes and said, sarcastically, "You sound like you've done this before." 

Jack flashed her a smile. "I have." 

“We never know whether or not to believe you when you say things like that," she said, a bit surly with her stomach so unwell. 

Jack shut the door behind him, and in a quiet voice, told her his story. 

"What happened to the baby?" she asked, astonished. 

"Went to the family I suppose," he said with a false smile. He gave her a one shouldered shrug, "I didn't even know the sex." 

"I'm so sorry, Jack," she said, reaching out for his hand. 

"It was a long time ago." He squeezed her hand and let go. "You still look green. You don't have to stay if-"

“I’m fine," she said, defensive. 

"Hey, take it easy," he said, calmly. "I get how hard this is, Gwen. You're not alone. It's important for you to rest. For both of you.” 

"I can still do my job, Jack," she protested, her voice rising. 

“I know that, Gwen. Whatever Will says, I’m not looking at this with twenty first century eyes. Pregnancy isn’t a ‘condition’ to me,” he said, sternly. He softened his tone and continued, “I’m on your side here. I want you to keep doing your job as long as you can but if you want to be out in the field chasing Weevils, then your leave starts now. If you stay out of the field, then you can stick around until you pop. So, no more heavy field work. Agreed?” 

Gwen nodded and sniffled, tears collecting in her large doe eyes. 

“Hey, none of that,” he said, gathering her into his arms. He rocked her and smiled. “Don’t worry. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Once the nausea goes away, you’ll be so horny Rhys won’t be able to keep up with you!” 

Gwen pulled back and gave him a playful slap in the chest. The two of them dissolved into giggles.


	9. Chapter 9

Immediately after the meeting had ended, Fish had nervously called his fiancé to ask, as politely as possible, if he wouldn’t mind helping them catch a super soldier. Henry was still quite cross with him but he’d agreed and was on his way. Fish was mentally calculating how long it would take him to arrive when Gwen bolted out of Jack’s office and straight into the loo. Concerned, Fish was about to get up to see if Gwen was all right but Jack beat him to it. They emerged shortly afterwards, giggling like school girls. 

The giggling stopped when Jack had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that should anything happen while he and Miranda were ‘discussing’ things in his office, that Gwen was to stay inside the Hub. She may have wanted to keep her pregnancy a secret but the cat was out of the bag now. Once they knew she was benched, it wasn’t exactly a big leap. 

Gwen felt the change in every man around her. She was the one carrying a child but the rest of them had all gone mother hen. She tried to focus on her work, but she could feel every pair of eyes on her. It was bad enough at home with Rhys always fussing over this and that. Now she was getting it at work too? Gritting her teeth, she watched the segments of CCTV footage that Fish had allotted her earlier. Every time she got up, they jumped to help her. Even when she was sitting down, one of them would ask if she needed something every few minutes. By the time Fish’s mobile went off announcing Henry’s arrival, Gwen was nearly at her last wits. 

“Henry’s upstairs,” Fish said. He wanted to try to speak to Henry privately before he came downstairs so he could apologise. He hadn’t been able to sleep last night, not well anyway. A few times he’d closed his eyes only to open them and find time had passed when it hadn’t felt like it. He didn’t really count that as sleeping. Henry hadn’t been asleep either. They’d just laid there, ignoring the fact that the other was awake. So Fish had done what he did best - he’d thought. He’d turned the whole thing over and over in his mind and by the time he’d fallen asleep, very late out of pure exhaustion, he’d realised what he’d done wrong. He got up to let in their guest but Ianto waved him down.

“I’ve got it, Ianto,” Fish said, turning towards the cogwheel door. 

Ianto insisted, “It’s fine, Fish. You keep working. I need the loo anyway.”  

He didn’t want to admit that their bit of hazing with Cameron had caused a problem at home, so Fish settled back down into his seat. He’d find another opportunity to apologise privately. While they waited for Ianto and Henry, the three of them continued to sift through the vast amounts of CCTV footage. Fish wished he could let Tosh lose on this little project but she was still a baby. Until they had proper search parameters for her, she wouldn’t be able to sort through anything because she’d have no idea what to look for. Fish rubbed at his neck and saw, out of the corner of his eye, Gwen standing up. 

He asked, “Can I get something for you, Gwen?” 

“I’m just getting a glass of water,” she replied, turning towards the kitchen. Neither man heard the slight annoyance in Gwen’s voice that should’ve been a warning sign. 

“I’ll get it,” Cameron said, waving her back into her seat. 

“It’s fine, I can-” 

Fish interrupted her and pointed at her chair. “Sit back down, Gwen. Cam’s got it.” 

Cameron put the glass of water down on the desk, gave her a friendly smile and went back to his work. Gwen didn’t even thank him. She just continued with her work, slowly breathing in and out. They were trying to be nice and helpful. She was just being hormonal. She should just breath deep and try not to get angry with them. Just as the proximity alarms went off and Henry and Ianto walked into the Hub, Gwen got up again. This time it was Cameron who showed concern. 

“What do you need, Gwen?” he asked, looking up from his screen. 

“Stomach’s calmed down. Having a bit of a chocolate craving. Just going to get some of those biscuits Ianto picked up,” she said, annoyed. 

“I’m already up,” Ianto said, turning towards the kitchen. “Sit down, Gwen.” 

“Please, allow me,” Henry insisted. 

“All right, I’ve had about enough of all of you!” Gwen shouted. She stood there with one hand on her hip and a finger pointed at all of them. The four men all looked a bit frightened. “I’m perfectly capable of getting up and getting something to eat or drink for myself and not one bloody word out of you, Ianto Jones!” 

Ianto looked positively terrified that Gwen singled him out.

“I’m pregnant. I’m not sick. I’m not an invalid. So will all of you stop mollycoddling me because I have a gun and I’m not afraid to use it!” With that Gwen stormed off into the kitchen to get the aforementioned biscuits. 

The four men looked at each other, a little stunned and still quite frightened. Henry was unsure what he’d gotten himself into and was beginning to wonder if a super soldier was the least of his worries or if the hormonal Gwen Cooper was where the real trouble was. They all silently decided that returning to work and ignoring the outburst was the best course of action. 

Ianto and Fish turned back to the CCTV and Cameron headed for the autopsy bay. Henry wasn’t very good with the CCTV program despite helping Torchwood for years. Usually, he would sit next to Fish and act as an extra pair of eyes. This time he didn’t automatically settle into a chair next to his fiancé. Instead, he waited a few moments for the apology he wanted and when it didn’t come, he turned on his heel and walked away. He’d find some other way to be useful. 

He and Fish had been been living together for over two years now. Things had been rough at first as they’d adjusted to their new space and each other, but they’d settled in quickly. They had few disagreements but when they did… Well, sometimes the emotions behind great happiness can cause anger in equal proportions. 

Since Fish was mortal, Henry often made allowances, spoiling his lover a bit. He would let something slide or ignore something to keep the peace, not wanting to mar their short time together with disharmony. But that deception with Cameron had been too much for him. In Henry’s time of birth, it was the greatest of disgraces to harm a guest. To welcome someone into your home, lulling them into a false sense of security only to do them harm, was the epitome of deceit and dishonour for Henry. What upset him the most was that, even after he’d voiced his displeasure, Fish had dismissed him. Henry couldn’t believe Fish didn’t find his deception of Cameron wrong in any way. In fact, he found it to be an amusing joke. Hazing, he’d called it. It all had offended Henry so much. The loft wasn’t just Fish’s home, it was his too. 

Now Henry went in search of Cameron. He knew he couldn’t tell the young doctor anything but he could try to make it right. Since Ianto was also watching video, he could fill in as Torchwood butler. Perhaps, Cameron would like something to eat or drink. When he descended the autopsy bay stairs, Torchwood’s new physician was sitting at what used to be Miranda’s desk. Henry saw that the young man had personalized it to his own tastes. The reason for his hiring was now clear. Miranda was leaving and she was leaving as soon as Cameron acclimated. 

Henry had noticed her becoming more and more distant since Captain Hart’s disappearance. He’d expected this. Henry pushed back the small pang that it sent through his chest. Since he’d moved to Cardiff to be with Fish, he and Miranda had been closer than ever and Henry would miss his teacher and friend once she was gone. He wondered if Fish knew. He decided not to say anything until Miranda chose to reveal it herself. Then again, he wondered if she would say anything at all. Everyone resented Hart for disappearing without a word but only Henry knew that Miranda was given to the same habit. 

Cameron was leaning back in his chair, taking a break. He was bouncing a tennis ball against the wall and catching it. Henry found the sight amusing. 

“Can I get you anything, Cam?” he asked. 

Startled, the young man looked over his shoulder, the tennis ball still in his hands. He was extremely surprised to see Fish’s fiancé standing there. He’d been lost in his own thoughts and hadn’t heard him approach. 

“Oh, Henry! No, I’m fine, mate, thanks.” He tossed the ball into the air and caught it. He turned around in his seat, sitting on it backwards. He rested his arms on the back. He turned the ball in his hands, nervously fiddling with it. “Henry… listen… I’m sorry Joe sprung me on you last minute. I know he was just trying to be nice to the new kid at school but-”

Henry held his hand up. His anger deepened. “Stop, Cameron. There is nothing for which you need to apologise.” 

“I mean… it’s just… you two seemed a wee bit off and, look, I’m not good with people…” he trailed off, not knowing exactly how to continue. “I don’t want to cause trouble that’s all.” 

Henry felt terribly. Cameron had picked up on his anger towards Fish’s deception and was wrongfully blaming himself. He turned and gave Cameron a serious look. “Cameron, that isn’t it. I promise you. My disagreement with Joe… It is no fault of yours.”

“You two haven’t kissed and made up yet,” Cameron asked, nodding towards the main Hub. 

Henry shook his head. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“This super soldier’s pretty dangerous. Why’d Jack let Joe drag you into this?” 

Henry gave him a very confused look. He’d been expecting a question more personal, perhaps about him and Fish’s disagreement, not this. “Protection, of course. I often assist Torchwood, acting as living shield to the mortal team members.” 

Cameron’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. The tennis ball slipped from his fingers and bounced on the floor. Henry stooped to retrieve it. 

“My apologies, I assumed that you’d been informed of… certain facts…” He handed the ball back to Cameron. 

“I mean I know about Jack and Ianto and Miranda but… you too?” Cameron asked, astonished. “What the fuck happened to you four?” 

“They have not informed you of the particulars?” Henry asked, surprised. 

Cameron shook his head. “Ianto just said that he, Jack and Miranda couldn’t die. Well, he said that they could just that… they’d come back…” 

“That is not entirely accurate,” Henry said with a tight smile. He went back into the main Hub and got a chair for himself. He sat down, and quietly, he told Cameron of the existence of the Game and the immortals that fought it. He also more thoroughly explained the differences between them and Jack. The expression on Cameron’s face became more and more incredulous. He waved his hands, completely overwhelmed. 

“Stop, mate, stop,” he said, shaking his head. He thought his head would explode. Ianto had told him about the immortal members of the team but he hadn’t told him any of this! He stood up and waved the hand with the tennis ball out to the side. “I… you know aliens… the pterodactyl… cracks in time and space… that’s one fucking thing but this?” 

“I know it is a lot to process,” Henry said, giving him a friendly smile. “If you have questions, I can try to answer.” 

“Is anyone here fucking normal?!” 

Henry laughed. “Define what you mean by normal.” 

Cameron joined in the laughter. He sat back down and ran his hand through his hair. With a deep sigh, he slammed the tennis ball onto the floor. It bounced high and he caught it on its way back down. “I don’t know how much more of this bollocks I can take. Were you born this way?” 

Henry nodded. “I suppose we are. We carry the potential for immortal life within us. It is awakened by the shock of a violent or unnatural death.” 

Cameron winced. “Would it be too personal for me to ask how you died?” 

“I was poisoned in 1536,” Henry admitted. 

Cameron’s wince deepened into a surprised grimace. “Someone murdered you? Why? Who? Was it because you’re gay?” 

Henry shifted, awkward. 

“Sorry, I did it again didn’t I? Sometimes I ask things I shouldn’t without thinking,” he said, retreating. 

“There’s no need for you to apologise, Cameron,” Henry insisted. He tilted his head. “I was born Henry Fitzroy.”

Cameron’s eyebrows shot up. He immediately connected the date with the name. 

“The son of Elizabeth Blount and King Henry VIII,” Cameron said and then his expression turned sympathetic. “If I can say something, honestly, Henry? Like an American I knew would’ve said… that blows big time.”  

Henry laughed as much with surprise as amusement. Usually people reacted to who he was with awe or curiosity. He’d never received sympathy before. “Indeed it does.” 

Cameron turned around and picked up his mug. He handed it to Henry who turned it in his hands, reading the side. It proudly proclaimed to never judge a book by its cover. 

“I know what it’s like when people assume something about you because of where you come from. Must be even harder when someone’s following you after nearly five hundred years in the grave.” 

Cameron was giving him a warm look. Once people knew who he was, it usually took time before they saw Henry as his own person rather than the son of a well known king of England. Cameron had made that transition faster than anyone he’d ever met, including Fish. He stood up and handed the mug back to Cameron. 

“Actually, some tea would be great, if you don’t mind, Henry,” he said, waving off the mug. “You know, that breakfast you made was fantastic. Joe’s a lucky man. If I swung that way, I’d try to steal you from him.” 

“Converting straight men is Henry’s specialty,” Fish said from the top of the autopsy bay stairs. 

“A ridiculous misconception and stereotype that I will thank you to not repeat,” Henry ordered, giving Fish a scathing look. He turned his attention back to Cameron and asked, tightly, “How do you take your tea?” 

“Just a wee bit of sugar, thanks,” Cameron answered. 

Henry walked past Fish without even looking at him. Cameron saw the hurt and apologetic look on Fish’s face. He made a whistling noise to get his attention. He jerked his head in Henry’s direction. 

“Go talk to him.” Without waiting for an answer Cameron turned back to his work. 

Henry, too angry to notice, hadn’t heard any of it. He just continued into the Hub kitchen and set the electric kettle to boil. He went about it roughly, accidentally spilling some water. He was wiping it up when, suddenly from behind him, he heard a shy voice say, “‘He’s here in double trust; First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, strong both against the deed; then, as his host, who should against his murderer shut the door, not bear the knife myself.’” 

“MacBeth, act 1, scene 7,” Henry said, quietly. He didn’t look up at Fish. He’d said the reference automatically. He laid the kitchen towel over the rack to dry. Their adorable quotation and reference play didn’t lighten the tension between them. Henry still looked so angry. 

“I’m sorry, Henry,” Fish said. He kept himself arm’s length from his lover. “I didn’t understand. You tried to explain last night and I heard you but I didn’t listen.” 

Henry wanted to stay angry with him but, as always, he couldn’t. He turned and said, “I should have spoken more plainly.” 

“I’m always forgetting when you were born… How different things must’ve been back then… different perceptions… different opinions…” Fish said in a very low voice. 

Henry didn’t meet his eye, looking out over the Hub. “Which is why I should’ve spoken more plainly.” 

“I’m sorry, Henry,” he repeated. His fiancé sounded less angry but there was still distance between them. He decided to give him his space, giving him a tight smile before stepping away. 

Henry couldn’t let Fish just walk away. The last of his anger evaporated. The whole thing had been just a stupid misunderstanding. He reached out for Fish’s arm, stopping him. 

“You are always forgiven, my love.” All he had to do was tug on Fish’s arm lightly. They met halfway. The kiss reminded Fish of their first, hesitant and sweet. Like that first kiss and every kiss since, Fish felt his knees weaken. He fisted his hand in Henry’s shirt, moaning. He opened his mouth, running his tongue along Henry’s lip and the invitation was accepted. Fish couldn’t stop the moan as Henry sucked on his tongue. The whole Hub melted away. 

Cameron, probably wondering where his tea was, came around the corner and saw them. He smiled broadly. “That’s sweet, that is.” 

They broke apart and Fish blushed a deep scarlet. Henry let out an embarrassed cough and clasped his hands behind his back. He backed away from Fish a step. 

“That’s a great colour on you, mate,” Cameron teased. He winked. “Glad you two have made up.” He craned his neck looking about. “If you want to sneak off somewhere for a bit I’ll cover for you.” 

Fish blushed deeper and was about to thank Cameron for the thought when Gwen’s voice called out. “I think I have something!”


	10. Chapter 10

Everyone was gathered around Gwen’s desk, looking at the footage. “We didn’t have anything for facial recognition but I realised that we did have something.” She tapped at her keyboard, bringing up the symbol on the blanket. “We have this. And if it appears on that blanket, it probably somewhere on his other clothes.” 

“Well, aren’t we all blind idiots,” Ianto lamented. They’d all missed the obvious. 

"Tosh, bring up the facial recognition results,” Gwen said and Fish shifted nervously. 

While Ianto and Gwen knew about his use of Toshiko Sato’s image and voice for the artificial intelligence interface for the mainframe, Jack was ignorant. Fish hadn’t told him because he’d been unsure about what Jack’s opinion would be. He’d forgotten to mention to Gwen and Ianto that he hadn’t cleared the use of Tosh’s face and voice with Jack. They’d probably assumed Jack knew. 

The pretty Asian face appeared on Gwen’s workstation and Jack gripped the back of her chair. “Tosh…” 

“Look, Jack…” Fish began but Jack cut him off. 

“We’ll talk about it later, Fish,” Jack said, his voice tight. Fish couldn’t tell if he was in trouble or not. 

“Oi! You go easy on him, Jack,” Tosh said, waggling her finger at him. She cleared her throat and put on her glasses. In a mechanical tone, she said, “Filtering… Cascading display.” 

She was switching too abruptly between her personality and functional modes. Fish made a mental note to make some changes to the program… if Jack let him continue using it. 

“First she found the symbol on the clothing but…” Gwen tapped away at her screen and an enhanced image popped up. “He’s also got it tattooed on his face.” 

“This will make him stand out a great deal,” Henry said, leaning in. 

“All facial and identifying characteristics entered into search parameters. Notifications set,” Tosh said, mechanically. 

Fish made another mental note to tweak the functional mode to express more personality. 

“This is good work, Gwen,” Jack said, nodding. 

“Ahem,” Tosh said, clearing her throat. 

“Only a matter of time before he shows up on the CCTV network,” Jack said over the loud throat clear. 

“Ahem!” Tosh repeated, louder. 

Jack gave Fish a piercing look. He pointed at the screen. “Is that thing serious?” 

“Excuse me!” Tosh cried, loudly. She sounded offended now. 

“Fish… artificial intelligence is risky,” Jack warned.  

“She’s not bloody Skynet,” Fish said, defensive. “I used Tosh’s data mining programs to create the interface. The whole program is from her algorithms. Give me a little credit, Jack. I wouldn’t have done if I thought she was going to take over the world or start a nuclear holocaust.” 

“My ethical programming is quite stringent,” Tosh interrupted. She folded her hands over her chest and pouted. She blinked twice and then unfolded her hands. Mechanically, she said, “One result. Prior time index.”

A window with the appropriate video footage appeared on Gwen’s screen. 

"Bugger," Fish swore. He pointed at the time index. “This was over an hour ago." 

“Is that one of the sewer entrances?” Cameron asked.  

"We can't follow him down there. No surveillance and the Weevils'd shred us to pieces," Fish said, frustrated. 

"What's a Weevil?" Cameron asked, confused. 

"Nasty buggers," Fish replied but then looked at Cameron, surprised. "Jack hasn't taken you downstairs to meet Janet yet?"  

"Janet? Nevermind, I don't want to know. I’ve had enough mental shite today,” he said with a sigh. He massaged his temples with his fingertips. "Do you think he knows those Weevil things are down there?" 

"It's safer for him to go to deep, out of sight,” Jack pointed out. He waved at the screen. “A lot of developed worlds have camera systems.” 

"Joe? Can you back that up a bit? Slow it down?" Cameron asked. "Actually show me how you're doing it too." 

"Sure, Cam," Fish said. He showed Cameron the appropriate commands and keystrokes. 

Cameron paused the video. "There. You see that?" He pointed at the screen, outlining a hump on the man's back. "Is he wearing some sort of rucksack? You said he had a standard kit. He came through with more than just a blanket.” 

"He might not surface for a while assuming that kit has food and water," Miranda said. Everyone turned and looked at her. She’d been so silent, they’d forgotten she was there.  

"I don't think it's worth you four going down into a Weevil nest, Jack," Fish said, reading the immortal woman's mind. Miranda was always so quick to throw herself to the wolves these days. 

"Bring up the schematics, Fish, I want eyes on every possible exit from where he went down. I want to know the ones that don't have cameras so we can stake them out ourselves." 

“Applying search parameters. Filtering. Please wait,” Tosh said. She pushed her glasses up onto her face. “Map overlay.” 

A map of Cardiff appeared on Gwen’s screen and dots began to spring up. 

"That's a lot of ground, Jack," Fish said, waving at the monitor. 

“We can’t possibly watch each of these areas constantly,” Henry said, waving at the screen. “There are simply too many.” 

Ianto shook his head. "I don't know if getting the locals involved is a good idea. This is personal. They might not listen if we tell them to not approach. Or worse, once they figure out he’s down there, they may go in themselves.”

Henry had assisted the team on more than one difficult Weevil hunt and he shuddered. “An unknowingly foolish prospect. Perhaps Mao-Lin is correct, we should go after him.” 

Ianto turned to Jack. His chin was tucked into his chest. “Jack?” 

By and large, Weevils were unstudied. Jack only had his own experience to go on. Weevils in general were aggressive predators with a pack mentality. Disturb their nest, and they became viciously territorial. Weevils that surfaced at night were normally restless individuals. It was usually repeat offenders walking the streets and eventually returning down to the sewers on their own or after a time out in Torchwood’s cells. Of course, day surfacers were a different story. 

It might not be complete suicide for the immortal members of the team but there was some risk. Weevils were strong… and carnivorous. It could be disastrous if one of the immortals were killed and dragged off. Jack saw too many variables and danger. He shook his head. “We’re not going down there after him. I’m not risking one of you getting your head ripped off.” 

Everyone turned to stand in a circle and began brainstorming. They needed a way to get the soldier to surface on his own and where they wanted him. They tossed around a few ideas, mostly dismissing them. Ianto said, “What about that weather control satellite you and Mandy found at the turn of the millennium?” 

“What about it, Yan?” Jack asked, not understanding. 

“We could make it rain,” Ianto replied, simply. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Ianto,” Gwen said, seeing his idea. “The rain makes the Weevils restless.” 

“It might do our work for us,” Cameron said, “if these Weevils are as dangerous as you say.” 

“But it’s also going to mean more Weevils on the surface,” Fish pointed out. 

“And we could end up running ourselves ragged after Weevils instead of our quarry,” Miranda finished. 

Henry politely knocked on Gwen’s workstation and said, “What if-” 

He broke off at the sound of an alarm. Fish turned and bolted, nearly knocking Ianto over. 

“FUCK ALL!” he cried. To everyone’s surprise he wasn’t running for his workstation but for the water tower. He leaned, shoving his arm into the equipment. 

"Talk to me, Fish!" Jack asked, not knowing what the alarm was for. 

"Give me a fucking minute, Jack," Fish snapped. 

“Fish…” 

He continued to frantically paw at the equipment, flipping switches and turning dials. He jogged back for his workstation and began bringing up programs. “I can explain or I can do this, Jack. Fucking pick one!” 

While their technician madly typed and clicked, the rest of them waited. Fish kicked his chair in frustration. “Bugger!” 

“FISH!” Jack barked. 

“Sorry, Jack,” Fish said, running his hand through his hair. “I think I’ve got it under control now. It’s part of the security system. Someone’s scanned us.” 

With a level tone, Jack said, “Fish, you know I appreciate when you upgrade the systems but you have to tell me. I don’t like alarms going off and not knowing what they’re for.” 

Fish rolled his eyes. “I did, Jack.” 

“You did?” 

“After that bollocks with the Nepanthian signal,” Fish reminded him. 

Jack furrowed his brow, trying to remember. He turned to Ianto with a leer on his face. “Oh, I remember that night…” 

Ianto rolled his eyes at his husband and Fish blushed scarlet. “I think Fish is referring to the signal from the Nepanthian ship, not you streaking through the Hub, Jack. He did submit a report on the changes to the security system. Double short klaxon means signal detection.” 

Fish cleared his throat. He turned back to his workstation and began running some programs. “ _Anyway_ , after that bollocks with the Napanthian signal, I changed the scanning protocol for the internal sensors to include a wider range. It picked up something scanning us.” 

“We don’t need this right now,” Jack said, leaning over Fish’s shoulder.

“I’ve got everything blocked for now. Whether or not they got any information is a guess,” Fish said, jerking his head at the water tower.

“Can you tell what they were scanning for?” 

“Not straight away. It’s running through the database now.” 

“They’re in your computer system?” Henry asked, alarmed. 

“No,” Fish said, over his shoulder. “I’m trying to figure out what they’re looking for and who they might be. Scanning generally uses some low level form of energy to obtain its information. The type of energy used will vary depending on what information is needed. Even the make, model and time period of the scanning device will be different.” 

Ianto looked over Fish’s shoulder. “This was low level and diffuse. Could be local.” 

“There was a small rift spike earlier this morning we haven’t seen to yet,” Miranda said. She turned towards the autopsy bay. “It could be something that fell through that spike.” 

“Stay put, Will,” Jack ordered. 

“Can you triangulate the scan?” Ianto asked. 

“Program’s working on that now. Give it… just… a few… seconds… Got it,” Fish said pointing at the map. “You’re right, Ianto. It is local.” 

Ianto squinted at the screen. “The Wetland Reserve? That’s on the other side of town from that spike Mandy was talking about and that spike wasn’t large enough to have dropped something through.” 

"Could it be the soldier?" Cameron offered. 

Jack turned. "What?" 

"The soldier. You said they’re intelligent and that they had a standard kit. I mean, he's from the future. That kit's got to have more in it than food and water and medical supplies," Cameron suggested with a shrug. "He's got to have equipment for his own defence and survival. You said that they threw a lot of resources at these soldiers, Jack. Sure, they were on suicide missions but they needed to be clever and equipped enough to survive to complete them. He's got to live long enough to be useful." 

"He's got a point, Jack," Fish said, pointing at the screen. He tapped his workstation. “Looks like he was scanning for certain types of radiation, the kind the rift manipulator emits."

Cameron edged away from the water tower. "You mean this bleeding place is radioactive?" 

Fish shook his head. “No, it just needs to scan the area to tell us about the rift alerts. It's not harmful.” 

Cameron looked up at the water tower. "He wants to go home." 

"What?" Jack and Fish both said simultaneously, turning to Cameron. 

He looked at the rest of the team, wondering why they were all being so thick. It was obvious, wasn't it? He explained, "Why else would he look for this thing? If you're stranded somewhere and you didn't know where or when? What would you do? He’s a soldier. He’s trained in a rigid set of standards. He’s used to being told what to do, having his life structured. He’s trying to get back to where things make sense to him. He wants to go home. Could the manipulator do that?" 

"It doesn't work that way-" Fish started but Jack interrupted. 

"We could send him back into the rift but whether or not he'd end up exactly where or when he came from is a slim to none chance," Jack said, waving upward. 

"Turn it off," Cameron said, waving at the water tower.

"WHAT?" the whole team shouted at him. 

Again, Cameron thought they are all being thick. "You said you're blocking him from scanning us, from knowing the equipment is here. It's what he's looking for! If you turn it off, we won't have to chase him down. He'll come to us! He won't be out there hurting people! Home pitch!” 

"He's right, Jack," Ianto said. "It would bring him to us and keep the public out of danger." 

Jack stood there for a moment thinking. "I don't like it."

"What is there to like about this whole bloody situation, Jack?" Miranda asked. 

"Point taken, Will. All right, we're going to need all hands on deck," he said loudly. Then he looked at Gwen. “Not yours.” 

She started to loudly object, “But Jack-”

“No, Gwen, Jack is right,” Miranda said, turning. 

“I can help with-”

“This is too dangerous, Gwen,” Ianto chimed in. 

“At least, I could-”

“That is most ill-advised,” Henry interrupted. 

“But-”

“No, Gwen!” Fish insisted. 

Miranda gave the other woman a stern look and said, “Don’t make me call Rhys to collect you.” 

Jack saw Gwen winding up for a louder and stronger objection. He walked over took her hand in his. “You’re pregnant.” 

Gwen hesitated but only for a second. She leaned down and opened the bottom drawer of her desk and took out her purse. She hugged and kissed each of them in turn. 

“We’ll ring as soon as this is over,” Cameron promised her. 

She gave them a tight smile and walked out towards the Hub garage. Jack sighed with relief once she was out of sight. He turned to Cameron. “Cam, Gwen said you did good on the range. But you’re sitting this one out too. You don’t have field clearance or the lay of the land yet." 

Cameron wasn’t about to argue. “I don't have a bloody death wish, mind, but I want to help. The rest of you can have fun storming the castle.”  

Jack nodded. “Will? I want to meet really quick and talk strategy. Everyone else? Go get some rest.”

The minute Jack and Miranda walked away, Cameron touched Ianto’s arm. “I know it’s not Torchwood business, mate, but could I borrow the SUV?” 

“What for? Can’t it wait? Jack wanted us to get some rest,” he asked. 

“Jack said he didn’t mind my living downstairs for a wee bit,” Cameron said, giving him a nervous smile. “I don’t have much. It won’t take long at all, just some clothes and things. Honestly, mate? I’m too wound up to sleep.” 

Ianto reached into his trouser pocket and handed him the keys. “Do you want me to go with you? It’d go faster with two.” 

“Sure,” he said, brightly.


	11. Chapter 11

Like when Fish had entered his flat, Cameron was a little embarrassed. He hadn’t been back so the place was still a mess. Then again, Cameron had seen glimpses of what Ianto and Jack called a bedroom. That space looked barely big enough for one grown man let alone two. The minute Cameron put his key into the door, he could hear Six meowing again. 

“Bugger,” he swore. “I knew I should’ve dropped more food for her. Thought I’d left enough. I was in such a rush and then Joe said there was that body…” 

“I’m sure she isn’t going to starve,” Ianto said with a smile. The door opened and the cat was packing back in forth in front of it, meowing loudly. 

Ianto stopped in his tracks. She was beautiful. She was quite a lot of cat but still very muscular and solid. She certainly did look the worse for wear, like a scrappy out of doors stray. She was black but had a marbled grey tabby pattern that was flecked with white. Her eyes were a sparkling blue. Her white whiskers were extremely long. He blocked the door but the feline showed no signs of wanting to leave. “Where’d you get her?” 

“Don’t worry, mate, she won’t go anywhere. She’s obedient for a cat. C’mon in,” he said, turning towards the very small kitchen. “I didn’t find her. She found me. I was with this foster carer in Glasgow. She was hanging about the back garden all the time. Angry old bat of a woman always chased her away but I’d feed her now and again. When I left that house and moved to another, she followed me.”

“She followed you?” Ianto asked, surprised. 

“Aye. I was real put out when I had to switch homes and leave her behind but the new people taking me didn’t fancy having a pet,” he said. “Liked things just so they did. I was over the moon when she was meowing outside my window one night. I kept nicking tuna tins from the pantry to feed her. Got told off a lot for eating in my room. She kept following me. That’s why I named her Six. Six houses and she found me every time. I figured that meant she was mine so when I went off on my own I took her with me,” he replied with a laugh. 

It was quite the story. Ianto couldn’t believe how clever this cat was. Cameron reached down and picked the cat up with a slight grunt, putting her down on the worktop. She sat down, patiently waiting for Cameron to pour out her food. Ianto reached out his hand. She sniffed it then dipped her head. He took it as an invitation and began scratching the cat behind her ears. 

“She’s beautiful,” Ianto said. 

“Thanks. She’s a bit worse for the wear. She likes you,” Cameron said. He dug the bag of cat food out from the cupboard and began to fill her bowl. “Eats me out of house and home, she does.” 

“Have you taken her to the vet?” Ianto asked. “She’s not sick is she?” 

“Everything’s normal,” Cameron said as he dropped the full food dish onto the floor. Six immediately abandoned Ianto for her food, tucking in with surprising gusto. “Vet said her tests looked fantastic for a cat her age.” 

“How old is she?” Ianto asked, curious. 

“I don’t know. I’ve had her since I was a lad of seven. So going on a wee bit over twenty years now,” he replied. Cameron rolled the bag closed. “She won’t eat the tinned stuff.” 

Ianto raised his eyebrows in surprise. The cat may look scrappy but she looked good for her age. 

“The furniture’s not yours is it?” Ianto asked. 

Cameron shook his head, scratching Six’s head one more time before he stood up. “No, some of the crockery but everything else came with the flat. Bedroom’s through that door. Well, the only door.” 

The two men looked down at a sharp meow. Six’s bowl was empty. Ianto let out a small laugh. It had been overflowing a few minutes ago! 

“I’m surprised she doesn’t break into the bag,” Ianto said, waving at the cupboard. 

“She does sometimes but she knows she’s not supposed to,” Cameron said. He unrolled the bag, scooping more food out. “When I was in medical school, I put some out before I left. It was a good amount too. I had a late night study group and I didn’t get back until past midnight. The bag was in the middle of my kitchen, half empty. It was a bloody new bag too. I thought she was going to be sick but next morning she was sitting by her bowl wanting more. I go through a bag like this every few days.” 

Ianto was surprised the cat wasn’t obese the way she was tucking into her second helping. “She’s not ill, is she? Eating like that, she should be fat as all.” 

“Trust me, mate, I’ve checked and rechecked. There was a time when every spare pound I had went straight to the vet. It got better when I started buying that grain free food. Expensive it is, though. Bloody cat eats better than I do,” he said, shaking his head. “Let’s get on then.” 

It didn’t take them long to get all of Cameron’s meager possessions packed. It really was nothing more than his clothing and toiletries, some of the crockery and a few boxes of keepsakes. Six watched the two of them curiously. A few times, she jumped into a box, nearly getting herself taped inside. 

“You sure this is a good idea? I can’t say she’ll be safe from Myfanwy,” Ianto warned. 

“I know,” Cameron said. “Jack said the same. I’ll make sure she stays in my room.” 

“If she gets loose…” Ianto pointed out, nervous. Six curled herself around his leg. The last thing he wanted was for Six to become Myfanwy’s late night snack. Cameron obviously loved the feline and Ianto had to admit that he was already quite fond of her. He’d never been one for cats before. 

“She won’t leave my room if she knows she’s not supposed to,” Cameron insisted. He reached behind the battered sofa and took out the large plastic cat carrier. He opened its door and Six, obediently, walked inside. After Cameron fastened the door, they started carrying things down to the car. With Six secure in the backseat, they drove back to the Hub. 

Fish and Henry gladly helped move Cameron’s things down into the staterooms. They both had a healthy flush to them. While Henry and Ianto unloaded the SUV, Fish and Cameron took the first boxes downstairs. They’d just gone through the stairway door when Cameron leaned in next to Fish, asking in a low whisper, “Will you at least let me know which room you and Henry were shagging in so I don’t pick that one?” 

The scarlet blossoming across Fish’s face was spectacular. He cleared his throat. Cameron let out a wink and surveyed the doors in front of him. Before Fish could stop him, he entered the first door on the left. Fish put the box in his hands down and grabbed Cameron’s arm. 

“Not this one,” Fish warned. 

“What? Why not? Looks like it’s been fixed up a bit,” he said, confused. He waved at the mirror and the thicker mattress. 

Fish shifted, nervous. He peeked back out the door. Not seeing any sign of Ianto or Henry, he said, “We had a team member who stayed in here for a while. He’s not with us anymore.” 

Cameron looked around. “Oh, shit, Joe, I’m sorry…” 

“It’s not like that, mate. He didn’t die, he just… he left.” 

“What?” Cameron asked, confused. 

“He buggered off in the middle of the night without a fucking word,” Fish said, in a low voice. “A real shit thing to do, if you ask me.” 

“Wait a minute,” Cameron said, turning. He was a bit irritated. “Jack said the only way I could leave was if you lot gave me that drug and took my memories. This bloke just pops off and you’re not even looking for him?” 

“It’s complicated.” Fish sighed. He shook his head. He remembered when he’d first started working for Torchwood he received that answer a great deal from Jack and Miranda. He’d always found it so condescending. Now he understood what everyone had meant. 

“Oi, I think I’ve shown I can handle the complicated rubbish flinging about the place. I’m not a bloody child, Joe,” Cameron said and Fish winced at the familiarity of the phrase. 

“Look, mate, it really is a bad situation…” 

Cameron crossed his arms over his chest and gave Fish a glare. 

Fish sighed and then popped his head into the stairwell. With no sign of Henry or Ianto, he said in a hushed voice, “He was a time traveller from the future. He’s either gone off planet or to a different time or some such nonsense. We’d retcon you if you left because you shouldn’t know anything about aliens but taking his memories wouldn’t have mattered because he knew all that to begin with.” 

“Oh,” Cameron said. He thought Fish was going to tell him something really daft. Then again, his life really must be upside down if he thought a time traveller from the future wasn’t really daft. 

“You think he’ll come back? Is that why you don’t want me using the room?” Cameron asked, still finding the room appealing. 

At first, everyone had hoped that Hart would return. Maybe he’d just gotten a bit of wanderlust into him and popped off somewhere or somewhen for a short while but it had been months. 

“We don’t think he will do. He’s a time traveller, mate. If he wanted to come back round he could. He could stay away for ten bloody years and come back not five minutes after he left.” Fish waved at the room. “I don’t think Evie would like you using his room.” 

“What? Why?” 

Fish leaned back out the door, again to check for Henry and Ianto. “She and him… they were…” 

Cameron’s eyes went wide, putting it together himself. “What a bastard!”

“Packed his things all while she was sleeping right there,” Fish blurted. The moment the angry statement was out of his mouth he’d regretted speaking so. It was one thing to tell Cameron about the situation, it was another to gossip about it and Miranda behind her back. He wished he hadn’t said anything now. Fish walked back out into the hallway. “C’mon, let’s get you settled in one of the other rooms.” 

He’d tried to claim the second room on the left but Fish had flushed a spectacular shade of purple as he’d approached it. Instead, he selected the room across from Hart’s old room. He sincerely hoped this one had clean sheets. Ianto and Henry were going back and forth, bringing the boxes and sacks of clothes as Fish helped him unpack and settle in. Cameron opened Six’s carrier and the feline tentatively stuck her nose out, testing the air. He started setting up Six’s things, keeping half an eye on her as she explored her new surroundings. He wrinkled his nose at the litter pan. “Do you think it’d be all right if I put this in the next room?” 

“Should be fine, mate. We never use these rooms for anything other than a quick kip. There are plenty,” Fish said as he ran a rag through the dresser drawers. “Jack and Miranda swear they’ve used them to put up alien emissaries and heads of state but I think that’s a bunch of bollocks.” 

Cameron laughed. “Probably’d want to put them up somewhere a wee bit more posh.” 

“Well that too. We’re a level five planet - a planet that hasn’t made first contact,” Fish explained. “Most contact with us is forbidden. Don’t get me wrong, it happens, but most time current aliens keep their distance.” 

Cameron snapped out, “Oi!”

Fish jumped at the noise. 

“Sorry, Joe, not you.” The cat had started to poke her head out of the doorway. “Don’t you even think about it. You stay in here unless you want to be something’s midnight snack, got it?” 

The cat tilted her head and gave him an angry look. 

“She should be fine if she doesn’t go upstairs. That door is the only one back up. It’s just the staterooms, the two washrooms and the laundry on this level.” Fish looked at the cat, jerking his head towards the door. “It’s okay, go on.” 

Six looked up at Cameron for permission and when he nodded she ventured out into the hallway. 

“Do not go up those stairs. I mean it!” He followed her so he could shut the door to Hart’s old room. He didn’t want her to throw up a hairball in there or something. He also dropped her food, water and litter pan into the next room over. He put another water dish by his own door. He looked at Hart’s closed door and shook his head. 

“Not right to treat a nice woman like Miranda that way.” 

“Don’t let anyone know I told you. It’s still a bit raw for all of us,” Fish said. He began slitting open the boxes. Six walked back into the room and jumped onto the bed. She sniffed at the box, and finding its contents uninteresting, jumped off the bed again. “We all want to tear him a new one if he ever comes back. Evie’s been in a right state. Unlucky in love she is.” 

“Shame, gorgeous woman like that,” Cameron said, shaking his head. He started to help Fish slit open the boxes, looking for his clothes. It was all he really needed right now. “Was she why you came here?” 

Fish handed a pile of jumpers to Cameron. He shook his head and said, “No.” And then corrected himself, “Well, actually yes.” 

Cameron laughed. “It’s either one or the other.” 

“It’s a long story,” Fish said, shrugging. “I chatted her up in a queue one night in a corner shop.” 

“Oh, mate, you didn’t?” Cameron asked, scandalised.  

“I took her to a Chinese restaurant for our first date. We chatted so long, they chucked us out. We went back round to her place.” Fish blushed deeply remembering the evening. He’d known something was off straight away after that first kiss. The sex had been intensely awkward. “What a mistake. We were better of as friends.” 

“With benefits?” Cameron asked with a laugh. 

Fish returned the laugh and shook his head, nearly disgusted with the idea. “No, it was just the one time. Felt a bit like I’d shagged my sister or something to be honest. We lost touch after I moved here. She rang me out of the blue, had me consult on a Torchwood case but, at the time anyway, I didn’t know it was a Torchwood case.” 

“Caught the bug, eh?” 

Fish nodded. “It wasn’t Torchwood that did it. A few years after she and I lost touch, a mutual friend told me she’d died in a RTA.” 

Cameron’s eyes went wide. “And then she rang.” 

“Yup,” Fish said, popping the ‘p’ a bit. “Caught my attention, that did. So I did some digging into ‘Evie’. Wasn’t long before I figured it out she’d been creeping about for a while and came knocking. Jack offered me a job here on the spot. Guess my work on that case or digging into Evie impressed him. Never understood why he was so keen on me staying.” 

Henry came into the room with two sacks of clothes in his hands. He handed them to Cameron and said, “These are the last two.”

Then, he turned to his lover, “Jack needs to ask you something, Joe.” 

Fish nodded. He gave Henry a quick peck on the cheek as he went past him, heading towards the main Hub. 

“Thanks, Henry,” Cameron said, taking the sacks from him. 

“You’re most welcome,” he answered with a smile. “Can I assist you with anything else?” 

“I think I’ve got it all under control. I just wanted to get most of my clothes and shoes set,” he replied. He opened a few of the sacks and started putting the clothes into the drawers. He nodded at the boxes. “Probably going to have to stack those in the other room.” 

Henry walked towards the boxes. “These?” 

“Aye, thanks, Henry,” Cameron replied.

Ianto leaned into the room before Henry had a chance to pick up the boxes. “Jack wants us all in the boardroom.” 

“Six?” Cameron called out. The cat wasn’t in the small room. He walked out into the hallway. She was staring at Hart’s closed door, sniffing the gap between the door and the floor. “Six, c’mon. I have to go upstairs. Back in, now.” 

Cameron waved at the door but the cat refused to budge. He walked over to her but she ran off. “SIX!”

“It’s all right, leave her, mate. The only way out is through this door,” Ianto insisted. 

Nervous, Cameron backed towards the stairway, ensuring the door was tightly closed behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Jack was at his usual place at the head of the table. Like many Torchwood briefings, this one was being done over a meal but not many of them were eating. The sandwiches were largely untouched. Jack was standing as he often did, leaning over with his palms flat on the smooth surface. “Listen up, people. We're letting this guy into our home. I know this isn’t the way we like things to turn out but he can’t leave here alive. We shoot to kill." He looked everyone in the eyes and said, “Will and I’ve worked out a fair strategy we think’ll offer the most success and safety for all involved. Ianto?"

Ianto stood up and tapped the tablet in front of him. A multilayered schematic came up on the screen. He twisted his fingers, turning and rotating the image. He gestured as he spoke. “This is a three dimensional rendering of the Hub. We’re here right now. This is the main Hub, autopsy bay, north stairs, east stairs and so on.” 

“Our current plan is to do exactly what Cameron said. We drop the dampening field, let him scan us and find the rift manipulator equipment in the water tower,” Jack said, gesturing at the water tower in the display. “It should be enough to lure him in. Fish? You want to go over your part of the plan?”

“So, I’ve rigged a special lockdown. Firstly, it’s silent so there’ll be no computer announcement. Once he’s inside, the first phase of the lockdown will seal all the outer exits, no change there. The second phase will seal the main Hub. I've got a nasty bit of direct current running through the water tower. He activates the equipment and Bob’s your uncle. It’ll be enough to knock him out cold,” he said, leaning back in his seat. "Oh, by the way, no one touch the water tower." 

There was a ripple of laughter around the table. 

“Not lethal current?" Henry asked. 

“It’s on the edge,” Fish said, shrugging. 

“I had Fish dial it down a little,” Jack explained. “Once the water tower incapacitates him, these bullets are our end game.” 

“What bullets?” Cameron asked.

Miranda produced a case that had been resting next to her chair. She opened it, turning it to face the rest of them. “We have ten of these pistols and five hundred rounds. They fell through the rift in a munitions box in the forties.”

Jack waved at the case. “They’re a weapon from the future, not far in the future actually - twenty third century, somewhere. They’re outlawed, though. Will?” 

Miranda picked up one of the pistols and laid it on the table. It looked like any time current semi-automatic pistol. She opened a small plastic case and took out one of the bullets, resting it next to the pistol. 

“They’re a small caliber but they’re not meant to kill, merely penetrate.” She pushed the bullet towards the middle of the table. She tapped the tip. “There’s a hollow point, filled with a lethal neurotoxin.” 

Cameron swallowed. “Do I want to know how it works?”

“Given its future illegality? Probably not,” Henry said, under his breath. 

Miranda gave her former student a slight glare. “After the toxin enters the bloodstream, it acts to lower the action potential threshold of the neurons causing generalised ataxia and hyperesthesia. Each bullet contains enough toxin to also cause excessive brain neuron activity and death.”

Cameron let out a scoff and translated. “It’ll paralyze him, cause excruciating pain, seizures and death. Why are we using an illegal weapon?”

“They aren’t illegal… yet,” Miranda said, pointedly. 

Cameron rolled his eyes at the technicality. He was the new bloke but this didn’t sit right with him. He protested, “Conventional bullets aren’t good enough? What about tranquilizer darts?” 

Coldly, Miranda replied, “As Captain Harkness has stated already our goal is not to wound. Make no mistake, Doctor MacDonald. The goal of this operation isn’t capture. This is an execution.”

The tone sent frost creeping over Cameron’s shoulder and he suppressed a shudder. 

“Will…” Jack warned. 

Miranda cast Jack a defiant glare. She took a small breath, rolling her shoulders. “The neurotoxin bullets are meant to increase the distance between us and our target. Any shot landed will be effective. This soldier is deadly. Immortal safety may seem superfluous but we can’t protect any of you if we’re dead and waiting to revive. We need stopping power at a distance.” She put the pistol back into the case. 

“Sometimes we need to use what the rift gives us,” Fish said, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t like it either, Cam, and I hate to sound heartless or cynical, but sometimes this is the way a Torchwood story ends.” 

Cameron looked down at his hand resting on the table edge. He nodded and let out a quiet sigh. 

Ianto cleared his throat and said, “The main plan is set but there are still some decisions Jack felt best to bring to the group. The two main entrances we use are the cog wheel door via the Tourist office, and the garage," he said. He rotated the image, pointing as he went. "There are a few other entrances and exits. We need to decide which one we're going to keep open for him. There's the service lift into the oversized items room, the bay level entrance for the boat and the sewer entrance that leads into the archives that we use for releasing Weevils."

"The emergency route out of the bunker," Jack said, surprised. 

"The what?" Ianto said, aghast. 

"There's a false panel in the bunker. It leads to a crawl space that dumps you out by the docks." 

"It's not on the plans," Ianto said waving at the display. He lowered his voice but the others could still hear him. "I live down there too, Jack. You didn't tell me?"

"I forgot about it, Ianto, till just now," Jack insisted. "I swear!" 

Ianto gave Jack a deep frown. 

"I didn't build the thing! That paranoid psycho Roger Colette did back in the fifties," Jack said, defensively. "It was meant to be his own personal panic room, complete with escape tunnel. Even Audrey didn't know about it. I found it when I moved down there." 

Impatient, Henry cleared his throat and then lightly knocked on the table. He tried bring them back on topic. “While it seems most direct and expedient, I’m certain you do not wish to allow him to enter through your bedroom. Is it possible to have him enter through the archive entrance and funnel him into a cell under cover of darkness? Thus contained, he would be far easier to deal with. The ballistic glass should hold.” 

"I don't think he’d be that thick," Fish said, looking skeptical. 

Cameron said with a shrug. “We’re not talking about a rat in a maze. If we try to do that, it might make him suspicious.” 

"I believe he will be suspicious in any case. Captain Harkness has said they are not mentally sound but they need to be coherent and stable enough to perform their duties,” Henry pointed out. “He is a soldier, trained to be wary and alert.” 

“Henry’s right, we’ll never be able to trick him into waltzing into one of ours cells,” Jack said, shaking his head. 

Miranda said, “The best option for us, strategically, is either the bay or the archives entrance. The path up from the oversized items room is too long on foot. There will be too many alternative paths for him to take. He could end up lost in the archives, with endless rooms and corridors. We want him to reach his objective.” 

“I don’t think the Tourist Office is a good option either. He might be from the future but the Tourist Office is obviously a facade,” Ianto said. He tapped the table, twisting the display. “The archive entrance and the bay entrance have just the one door.” 

"The bay entrance would be the best option for him - concealed from the outside, minimal CCTV camera coverage," Fish pointed out. 

“The cameras can’t be seen. He’ll probably assume the entrances are under surveillance anyway,” Ianto said, shrugging. 

Henry waved at the display. “He will already suspect a trap but if we make this too easy, it will strengthen that suspicion.” 

After examining the schematic, Cameron insisted, “I think the archive entrance would be the easiest for him.” 

Ianto pointed up at the rendering. “I agree with Fish, that he’ll use the bay entrance.” 

Cameron smiled. He took out his wallet and tossed a tenner out onto the table. “Who else is in?” 

There was a slight ripple around the table but only Ianto took out his wallet, dropping another tenner on the table. Henry reached forward, taking both notes, a broad smile on his face. “We’ll settle up afterwards.” 

Jack cleared his throat and said, "I think we're going to have to make the archives entrance and the bay entrance available to him. We'll just cover both. So Will? Ianto? You two take the sewer access. Henry and I will cover the bay level entrance. Fish, I want you in the main Hub-”

“Is it wise to leave all the immortals in the periphery, Jack?” Henry interrupted. 

“We’re going to let the water tower do our work for us,” Jack said. He pointed at the display. “We leave the immortals down on the ground, in his line of sight. We keep Fish up above, out of danger. He’s the best shot on the team. Fish, I want you on the catwalk that goes to Myfanwy’s perch. If we retract the ladder, he won’t be able to get to you.” 

Fish shook his head and objected. “That won’t give me the clearest line of sight for the path between the east stairs and water tower, Jack. I should be on the catwalk by the hothouse.” 

Jack and Miranda shared a wordless conversation. The catwalk by the hothouse had stairs. Fish would still be above but he wouldn’t be as protected. He looked from Henry to Fish and back again. Jack nodded. “All right, Fish.” 

“Wait,” Cameron interrupted. “I know I’m not trained up yet and you wanted me to sit this one out, Jack, but if I’m on that catwalk I’ll be perfectly safe. I could lay down some suppressing fire. I could cover everyone from above with Joe.” 

“That’s not a good idea, Cam,” Jack said.

Miranda shook her head. “Absolutely not, Cameron. You’re not certified for the field.”

“But I won’t be in the field! I’ll in the bloody Hub on a metal walkway above everything!” he insisted. 

Even Henry voiced his opinion. “I think that is most ill advised, Cameron.” 

“Look, Gwen said I did all right on the range and that’s all I’m to do up there isn’t it? Shoot?” Cameron argued. “I’m not going to be where he can get at me. I’m not going to be down in the middle of things.” 

“I thought you were fine with the rest of us ‘storming the castle’,” Fish said. 

“That was before I knew there was somewhere I could be out of the way,” Cameron said, pointing at the Hub schematic. 

“It’s not safe, Cam. I’m sorry,” Jack insisted. 

“What about any of this is safe, Jack?” he asked, laughing a bit. “I already told you. I don’t have a death wish. I just want to help. You said so yourself, the soldier won’t be able to get up there with the ladder retracted.” 

Everyone at the table seemed ready to continue the argument. 

Cameron said, “Look, you’re training me for the field. I’m going to be faced with these sorts of ‘combat’ situations eventually. This is a good way for me to be in the thick but be safe.” 

Jack’s brow was still furrowed as he carried on silent conversations with the rest of the team. He nodded and said, “Fish, you’ll be on the catwalk outside the hothouse. Cam, by Myfanwy’s perch. Unless you have a clear shot, I want conventional bullets first. If you clip a few of us with them, it won’t matter, but the toxic bullets will mean lights out. Fish? Let’s go over the other tech.” 

“This guy has all of us beat in terms of strength, speed, stamina and senses," Fish said and then waved his hand randomly between the immortals. “Probably even you lot. We’re using technology to level the playing field. The Hub’ll be sealed completely from the outside. We've no windows so to handicap him as much as possible, we're going to shut off all the artificial light inside the Hub. It’ll help keep you lot out of his sight.”  

Fish bent down and lifted a large plastic box onto the table. Cameron wondered how he hadn’t seen all these cases when he’d walked into the room. Fish unfastened it and opened it. There were half a dozen goggles. “We’ll be using the latest in twenty first century night vision technology. No rift gifts of this one, sorry. But, the rift did give us these.” 

Fish pushed a small metal cylinder into the center of the table. "The whole Hub is covered by CCTV camera and internal sensors. Radio frequency identification nanotechnology will help us track him. These fell through the rift with a corpse back in the eighties."

Henry raised his eyebrow. "I'm afraid I am not following you, Joe." 

"RFID is basically a radio locator beacon," Fish said. He unscrewed the cap of the small tube. There was nothing but a few teaspoons of dust inside. "These are microscopic radio transmitters." 

"You know the dye packs they put into the money when people rob banks?" Jack asked. Henry and the others nodded and Jack continued, "In about forty years or so, banks will start using packs of these instead of dye. The radio transmitters microscopically cover the money and the thief." 

"The poor sod who fell through the rift with the bag of money was dead but the RFID pack hadn't gone off yet," Ianto said, waving at the cylinder. 

“Those are tracking devices?" Henry asked, astonished. He leaned forward in his seat to get a good look. 

"We're going to tag him. It won’t matter which entrance he uses. I’ll rig something so he’ll get tagged either way. We'll be able to follow him with the internal sensors,” Fish said. He tapped the tablet in front of him. A map of the Hub appeared with a number of dots on it. “This display’ll be available on your personal PDA's. It’ll allow us to track his progress and tell us from him. Make sure to keep your screen on the dimmest setting or the goggles will momentarily blind you. And once the signal for the lights is given, close your eyes and then take your goggles off for the same reason.”

Jack waved at the tube. “These tags are so we can stay out of his way once he’s inside. We give him a wide berth.” 

Cameron gestured with his hand for the PDA and Fish slid it across the table top. He caught it and looked at the display. He touched the screen, spreading his fingers to enlarge it. The single dot over the boardroom expanded to four - one red and three green. He looked at the screen and at the others. He turned the PDA around. “So this red dot’s the trackers? There’s only three green dots. There’s six of us. How’s it know the difference?”

“Oh, right! These are for you lot since we can’t tag you.” Fish said. 

He pushed the plastic bag of metal disks into the middle of the room. Each was about the size of a pound coin. Cameron watched one of the dots on the display move and separate as Jack distributed the other devices to the immortal team members. 

“What do you mean you can’t ‘tag’ them?” Cameron asked. 

Jack put on a bit of an evil grin. He let out a small chuckle and said, “That night you went home with Fish? We implanted a tracker under your skin. It’s an emergency measure in case you’re abducted.” 

“Oi! Thanks for the heads up before you lot lo-jacked me!” Cameron said, with mock annoyance. He immediately started to laugh. He gave Fish a bit of a glare. “You slipped me wee bit of something that night didn’t you? That’s why I fell asleep and don’t remember a bloody thing!” 

Fish blushed a bit. “Sorry, mate.” 

“It’s all right,” Cameron replied, still laughing a little. Now, he realised why Henry had been so upset with Fish. He looked at Henry, giving him as friendly a smile as he could. “Really, it’s all right.” He scratched at the scab on his neck. “In med school, I got pissed and the other blokes in my lab group locked me in the morgue drawer with our cadaver. So if this was the worst you did to me while I was out, I’ll take it.” 

A small ripple of laughter circulated around the table. When it had quieted, Cameron asked, seriously, “This might seem like a stupid question, but why don’t we let him use the equipment and try to go home?” 

Jack looked down at the polished surface of the table and said, “Rule number one?” 

Everyone but Henry said, simultaneously, “We don’t mess with the rift." 

"Ever," Jack said with finality. 

Cameron was about to say that he thought the first rule was no heroics with any of the immortal team members but Jack said, “So that’s the plan. We let him use the archive or the bay entrance. That’ll trigger the silent outer lockdown. We follow him in and once he’s near the main Hub, Fish’ll activate the second lockdown. When the water tower zaps him, the lights’ll go on. Cam, suppressing fire as needed from above. Fish? I want you focused on the takedown - a headshot if possible. Will? Henry? Ianto? We’re the living distractions. Let’s all get a couple hours of rest. Four hours and we’ll turn off the dampening field.”


	13. Chapter 13

Fish pounded his fist into the uncomfortable pillow again. His and Henry’s bedroom at the loft was a tranquil and peaceful retreat. They slept on a king sized expanse of the best memory foam and high thread count sheets money could buy. There was the gentle scent of Henry’s aftershave and clean laundry. Henry even had these strangely masculine scented candles that made the room smell like the woods after a fresh rain. 

Compared to that, the staterooms were like a dodgy hotel. He punched the pillow again, rolling it over. He could hear all the sounds of the Hub’s bowels. There was water trickling through pipes and the ever present hum of fans keeping the air circulating. That air was slightly dank and Fish swore he could smell Six’s litter pan even though the door to the room they were in was closed. He could hear the buzz of the lights in the hallway. The ambient sounds weren’t the only thing keeping him awake. The pillows were lumpy. The mattress was full of springs. The sheets were scratchy and the bed cramped. 

Henry groaned from next to him. “Joe? Are you unable to sleep?” 

Frustrated, Fish said, “Fucking crick in my neck… a spring in my side…” He rolled onto his back and let out a deep sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know about letting Cam be a part of this.” 

“There are four of us to protect him,” _and you_. “We are taking every precaution to ensure everyone involved is safe.”

“He’s not trained, Henry,” Fish said, exasperated. “They didn’t let me into the field for weeks.” 

“He must learn, Joe. Jack would not have permitted him to remain if he truly felt Cameron incapable.” 

“I guess you’re right,” Fish said, punching at his pillow again. He let out a frustrated growl and turned it over. He said, angrily, “You know, we have a flat within walking distance of here so I wouldn’t have to go having a kip in the fucking staterooms.” 

Henry decided not to point out that it had been Fish who’d insisted they sleep down here instead of going home. He formulated a plan and said, gently, “Shh, love.”  

In one fluid motion, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and flung it, not really caring where it landed. He pushed his pyjama bottoms down, kicking them to the floor. He shifted, pressing his entire body along Fish, wiggling gently. He felt the change immediately. The two were nearly the same height and Fish loved to feel Henry’s nude body completely up against him like this. The set to his shoulders changed as did the tension in his back muscles. 

“Let me relax you,” Henry said, seductively. He kissed Fish’s shoulder, working his way towards his neck and Fish shivered. 

“Not that I’m one to turn down sex, Henry, but I need to go to sleep,” Fish said, trying to shrug Henry off. He looked at the clock and groaned in a very nonsexual way. “If I fall asleep right now, I’ll get three hours and I’m so fucking tired.” 

Henry reached over his lover. He turned the clock face down. “Shh, ignore the clock. Ignore the numbers.” 

He laid back down behind Fish and pulled the blankets back up over them further. He let his lips continue their path. At the junction between his neck and shoulder, he sealed his lips against the skin and sucked, hard. Fish let out a low moan. He started to tremble as Henry’s hand began teasing the hair on his belly, slowly traveling lower. 

“We don’t have any-” 

“Shh,” Henry said, softly into his ear. He knew they didn’t have any lube but sex wasn’t what was on Henry’s mind. Well, it was, but it wasn’t the plan. He let his hand drift lower, his fingers ghosting over Fish’s stirring erection. He slid his hand over it, enjoying the feel of the skin. He pressed his own hard cock into Fish’s backside, pumping with his hips gently, teasing. 

“Christ, I want you,” Fish said, huskily. He shifted his arse back, wiggling. He shivered. “I want you in me.” 

“Shh,” Henry repeated. Gently pumped his fist, loosely, over Fish’s erection and there was another moan. He let go and brought his hand up to his mouth. He licked the salty pre-come from his palm, letting his saliva provide more lubrication. He reached behind him with his other hand, tugging some tissues from the box on the bedside table. Swiftly, he slipped them between the sheets in front of Fish. 

“Close your eyes, love,” he said, grasping Fish’s cock again. 

Fish gasped. “Henry…” 

“Shh,” he said, again. “Feel my touch.” 

Fish reached backwards for him, trying to wedge his hand between them but Henry grabbed his wrist. “Shh, I’m not here. Just feel.” 

“But-”

“Not just yet. You first. Close your eyes,” Henry insisted. “Think of this…” he twisted his hand, “… and only this…” he increased his speed and pressure. 

Fish’s toes began to curl as his orgasm built. He laid there as Henry saw to his pleasure. Henry continued to whisper soft words in his ear. In between the gentle tugs, Henry’s hand would drift lower, to run his fingers over his balls or rub the skin of his legs. There was no teasing and only the slightest hint of playfulness. Henry licked his palm one more time, shuddering as the salty taste made his own cock twitch. He circled his hand around Fish’s cock. It was rock hard, hot and throbbing. Henry felt his own hardness twitch. He wanted to bury himself in his lover or to feel Fish buried inside him. He wanted the wet warmth of Fish’s mouth or his skilled fingers. His breath was coming faster as his lust was pounding in his head but he ignored it. He had another purpose here. Fish gasped as Henry ran his spit slicked palm over the head, twisting his fist just… _so_ … 

“Oh God!” Fish cried. He reached back, gripping Henry’s hip. His fingers bit into the skin as jolt after jolt shot up his spine. Fish had no idea what to do with his other hand, moving it back and forth from being fisted in the pillowcase and then the sheets. 

Henry continued his slow and steady rhythm but increased his pressure. “That’s it…” he coaxed. He felt the cock in his hands begin to swell. “Let go, love…” he said, quietly. “Let go…” 

Fish’s whole body stiffened. Instead of his usual scream, there was only a small grunt and sharply inhaled breath. Henry, angling the spurting organ towards the precisely placed tissues, continued to stroke him through his orgasm. Some of the hot come ended up on Henry’s fingers, lubricating his efforts. Each movement of his hand caused Fish to convulse and each convulsion made his moan increase in volume for a moment. 

Henry gripped Fish’s softening cock tightly, wiping upwards with his fingers to clean away as much of the mess as he could. He would rather have used his tongue and his mouth watered at the thought.Instead, he tossed the soiled tissues onto the floor and brought his come covered hand out from under the blankets, holding it away. He didn’t want to disrupt his plans by moving either himself or Fish too much. Henry ran his lips over Fish’s shoulder. “Sleep love…” 

“But what about you-”

“In a minute,” Henry said, softly. “Just close your eyes for a minute…” He continued in his quiet, gentle voice, “This was nothing more than a pleasant dream…” 

Henry shifted slightly away from Fish, grateful as he heard his lover begin to snore. He let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Fish, in stereotypical male fashion, generally wanted to fall asleep immediately after orgasm. Henry rolled onto his back. His own cock was screaming. The feel of the rough blanket against his foreskin was almost painful. He bent his knees slightly to relieve the pressure. There was no way he could get his own rest now. He’d taken care of one problem only to have another rise up in its place, quite literally. He’d have to satisfy himself before attempting sleep. 

Could he manage to get to the door without waking Fish? No, Fish hadn’t been asleep long. The minute the bed shifted, he’d disturb him. Could he manage a quick, quiet wank? Maybe… 

Henry brought his soiled hand downwards. Fish’s come was a little cold now but it warmed quickly. Henry bit into his lip as he ran his hand over himself, using his lover’s come as lube. It made the whole experience even more erotic. Even though the room was dark, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander. He remembered the first time he’d experienced Fish’s mouth. Continuing to move his hand, he remembered the warm wetness and stifled a moan. He spread his legs and brought his other hand down to massage his perineum, as Fish had done that morning. 

Henry hadn’t expected the blow job at all and for a first effort, it had been impressive. His own hands paled in comparison, especially now that Fish was more experienced. He added a slight twist on his downstroke, trying to mimic what Fish had done with his mouth. He stifled another moan. His breath was starting to come in ragged pants and he slowed it, fearful of jostling the bed and waking his lover. Now that Fish was asleep, Henry wanted him to stay asleep. 

He licked his lips, biting into the top one as he felt himself beginning to tremble. He was on the precipice of his release. Instead of slowing his hands, to prolong the moment, he did exactly as Fish had done that very first morning. He increased his efforts, moving his hand faster and gripping himself tighter. He pressed his fingers into his perineum with more force. He tried to hold off his orgasm mentally just as he’d done then. Since it was his own hands and not Fish’s mouth on him, it was more easily done. This quick, quiet wank was becoming a bit more enjoyable as Henry held himself on the edge of release. Suddenly, Henry felt someone grabbing at his wrists. He opened his eyes. 

“Joe?” he cried out, startled. 

“Shut up, Henry,” Fish said as he threw the blankets back. 

Without another word, Fish took Henry into his mouth and Henry let out a shriek. The feel of Fish’s mouth completed his fantasy. It was all it took to make him come, hard. One of Henry’s hands gripped the sheets while the other fisted itself into Fish’s hair. His back arched up and off the bed. Fish took as much of Henry into his mouth as he could, feeling him strike the back of his throat as his mouth filled with come. The sound of Henry’s surprised scream made his own sated dick twitch. 

After he licked Henry clean, Fish rearranged the blankets. He gathered Henry into his arms and said, “Now, we can go to sleep.” 

“I love you, Joe.” 

“Love you too,” he replied lazily.  

Henry nuzzled his nose into Fish’s hair and ran his hands along his arms. As always, he pushed back sorrowful anticipation. He wished that he and Fish were far from here. He wished Fish was a simple chemistry professor or researcher. He wished that he was mortal and that they could grow old together. _If wishes were fishes…_ He stamped back his worry and his fear about the soldier and their plans. He kissed Fish’s head and sent up his daily prayer as tears filled his eyes. 

_Please… not yet…_


	14. Chapter 14

Whenever Jack ordered rest before a tactical situation, he and Ianto spent it at either sleeping or athletically fucking. There was no middle ground and this time they’d decided on the latter. They hadn’t even bothered trying to sleep first. They’d just jumped straight to the sex, skipping the foreplay. The two of them looked like something out of a porn film. Jack’s legs were on Ianto’s shoulders. The bang-slap of flesh punctuated through the heavy breathing and loud moans. Ianto had his hands dug into Jack’s thighs, using them as leverage. Their bodies were moist with sweat, a trickle running down Ianto’s face. This kind of pornographic-like fucking had always been a celebration of life and a thinly veiled way to say goodbye, though the two lovers had never acknowledged that. Even though Ianto was immortal now, and incapable of being killed by an alien device, bullet or random explosion, they saw no reason to break with tradition. 

Ianto changed his angle slightly and Jack screamed. He reached forward, digging his fingers into Ianto’s arse. He gripped the firm flesh as he threw his head back. Ianto bent forward. He let go of Jack’s legs and they fell to his sides. He started using the headboard as a way to leverage his thrusts. If there was one advantage of his sword training, other than keeping him alive, it was the fact that he’d packed on quite a bit of muscle and improved his stamina. He thrust into Jack harder and the other man began sliding up the bed. 

Each of them was fighting the other for control. The power play was exhilarating. Jack tried to use his hands to direct and control Ianto’s thrusting. Ianto took it as a challenge. He varied his angle slightly away from Jack’s prostate, just enough to tease, and Jack let out a low growl. He reached up, gripping Ianto’s chest and pushed. The two of them flipped and Jack sat up. He rode Ianto like a bucking stallion. 

Not one to take anything laying down, Ianto responded. He pushed up, thrusting into Jack from below. Two handed, he jerked on Jack’s cock. With another growl, Jack yanked Ianto’s hands away. He started fisting himself, using Ianto’s body for his own pleasure. Ianto seized the opportunity. He reached up and grabbed Jack’s shoulders, flipping them again. 

“C’mon, Jack,” he taunted.  

Jack let out a howl, meeting Ianto thrust for thrust. He reached up, gripping Ianto’s forearm. He was trying to flip them again but Ianto intervened. He grabbed Jack’s wrists, pinning them above his head as he continued his thrusting. 

“Naughty,” Ianto whispered. With his hands pinning Jack’s wrists, he dipped his head, sucking on Jack’s nipple. 

Jack let out a howl, reaching between them for himself. His hand finding its own rhythm. Pleasure arced through every nerve in his body and each cell was on fire. He arched his back and screamed, “IANTO!” 

His cock erupted, spraying thick white ropes of come across his chest and Ianto’s hand. Ianto let out a long scream, grunting with each thrust, as his own orgasm began to break loose. 

“JACK!” Ianto roared. With a few more jabs, he shuddered. He tried to let go of Jack’s wrists but his arms gave way and he collapsed. His face smashed into Jack’s bicep. 

“Wow…” Jack gasped, still catching his breath.

Ianto wasn’t able to form words yet. His nose was smashed into Jack’s arm. He managed to turn his face to the side for air. He was panting, trying to catch his own breath. So close to Jack’s sweaty skin, he was getting lungfuls of fifty first century pheromones at their finest. Ianto wasn’t sure what was making him so light headed - his gasping for air or Jack’s scent. 

“Ianto?” Jack asked. 

“Give me a minute…” he replied. His voice was muffled, his mouth a bit distorted jammed into Jack’s arm. 

Ianto planted his hands on the bed as if to lever himself up but was only able to shift his weight so that he wasn’t crushing his husband. He stayed mostly where he was. He wasn’t breathing as hard but his whole body felt like gelatin. Even though they’d been together for years, Ianto was still amazed at Jack’s ability to fuck him into oblivion especially when Ianto was the one doing the fucking. He finally pushed himself up only to immediately collapse back onto Jack’s chest. He gave up and, instead, he just rolled off onto his back. 

“Wow…” he breathed. Usually, Ianto cleaned up immediately. This time he just laid there with his eyes closed. The come on his soft dick becoming uncomfortable and cold. He didn’t think his legs would support him. While their sex life was always satisfying and adventurous, they’d outdone themselves this time. Jack wobbled towards the tiny washroom. Ianto felt a warm, damp flannel hit his chest with a splat. It startled him a bit. 

“That’s romantic, that is,” he said. He rolled his eyes and waved at the cloth. 

Jack tossed his own soiled flannel towards the hamper and then collapsed next to Ianto. “You’re the one who insists on cleaning up.” 

“I don’t like being sticky. Do you know how many times we change the sheets as it is?” Ianto said, rolling his eyes. In an uncharacteristic display of laziness, he tossed his own soiled flannel towards the hamper. It landed on the edge and he didn’t even bother to get up to tip it in. He let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. Jack tangled their legs together and buried his nose in Ianto’s shoulder. Their breathing had returned to normal and they basked in the afterglow for a few minutes. 

As always, it was Jack who broke the silence with, “You’ll be careful, right, Yan?”

Ianto’s reply was always the same, “Of course, Cariad.” 

He ran his fingers through Jack’s hair, gently pushing it in different directions. 

“Stop,” Jack whinged, drawing out the ‘o’ a bit. He pushed Ianto’s hand away. He ran his fingers back through his hair, trying to get rid of the strange feeling in his scalp. “That’s rude, you know.” 

“What is?” Ianto asked, acting innocent. 

“Looking for the grey,” Jack snipped. 

Ianto smiled and let out a large yawn. He didn’t deny the accusation. They lapsed into a few minutes of silence. Ianto looked at the clock. The sex had been athletic but they’d kept it short. It had distracted Ianto from a question that had been turning in his mind since the briefing. Before they went to sleep, Ianto decided to ask it. 

“Jack, you know I’d never question you in front of the others, but are sure it’s a good idea? About Cam I mean?” 

Jack sighed. He didn’t want to tell Ianto that Miranda was leaving and that he was trying to get Cameron trained as quickly as possible. What Ianto didn’t say was that he’d already figured all that out on his own. Even though he knew the main reason, Ianto still had some doubts. 

“Gwen said he’s a natural and she wasn’t kidding,” Jack explained. “She gave him the marksmanship exam for kicks once he got the hang of it. She said he scored a twelve.”

Twelve was the minimum score to pass. The fact that Cameron got a passing score after only one training session was impressive. 

“Yan, I know it looks like I’m rushing him but he offered and he was so set on it,” Jack said, shrugging. “Have you noticed how he’s afraid to make a mistake? How he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing? He wants to prove himself.” 

“And you’re giving him that chance when there’s four of us and he’ll be up on a walkway and safe,” Ianto said, understanding. He yawned again. “Better than him going out on a rift alert.” 

“Exactly. This is as close to a controlled environment as it gets,” Jack replied. “I didn’t want to say it in front of him, make him think this wasn’t real.” 

Ianto nodded and wriggled a bit. He pushed at the blanket with his feet, untucking it from the foot of the bed slightly. 

“Stop that,” Jack warned. 

“It’s not comfortable on my feet, Jack. You tucked them in too tight.” He yawned and then remembered something he’d been meaning to tell his husband since yesterday. “Fish asked me to be his best man.” 

“That’s great, Yan,” Jack said. He ran his fingers through Ianto’s chest hair.  

“I suppose I’ll have to think of a speech,” Ianto sighed. He lifted his arm, putting his hand behind his head. His eyes started to feel heavy.

“Oooh, stag night,” Jack said, enthusiastic. He let out an evil laugh and repeated, “Stag night!”

Ianto rolled his eyes, stifling another yawn. “I’ll see to that, thank you very much.” He felt Jack’s foot rubbing against his calf. The familiar sensation was so relaxing. “Tom wants to see if we can have a double stag do.” 

“You don’t?” Jack asked. 

“Fish and Henry have different interests,” Ianto pointed out. He closed his eyes, just to rest them.  

“A lot of overlap on the guest lists,” Jack pointed out. 

“True,” Ianto said in a softer voice. 

“Talk to them about it,” Jack said. “There’s still plenty of time, Yan. They don’t even have a date yet.”

“No… not yet… lots… of… of time…” Ianto said. His words sounded even quieter, with longer pauses between them. 

Jack didn’t reply as Ianto’s breathing evened out. Ianto was asleep. Jack often found it difficult, sleeping little if at all even though he slept easier now that he had Ianto in his life, he occasionally had trouble. This didn’t seem like one of those times though and Jack felt sleep creeping up on him too. He was content. He nestled into Ianto closer as his mind echoed Ianto’s words in a different context. _Lots of time, now_ …


	15. Chapter 15

Jack had told everyone to get some rest but Cameron hadn’t been able to sleep at all. Six had been next to him, purring away, and that had always been plenty to relax him but not this time. He’d never been one for naps nor had he ever been the type to fall asleep easily. When he’d worked nights and late shifts, having a kip during the day had been difficult because of the brightness. Now, he was deep below ground. There were no windows and without artificial light, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Now, it was _too_ dark. The unusual sounds of the Hub were also keeping him awake, but most of all, it was his own nerves. 

After a few hours, frustrated, he’d given up and come upstairs for something to eat. The Hub was deserted and Cameron shook his head at it. He really had no idea how the rest of the team did it. He felt inadequate and a little embarrassed. They were fine, slumbering away. It was him, the rookie, who was a nervous wreck. He supposed they were used to this. 

Jack was their leader, fearless and steadfast. He called himself captain so Cameron assumed he must have served somewhere. Henry, Ianto and Miranda were all immortals of the Game and for what they called a ‘game’, it sounded horribly violent. It was no wonder Ianto hadn’t wanted to tell him the whole of it. They were trained to kill and defend themselves. Fish commonly referred to himself as a lab squint but the Australian had been with Torchwood for years. This whole situation was totally normal for all of them. 

Cameron hoped that, like Fish, he’d become accustomed to… What? Combat? Battle? A tactical situation? Whatever he called it, he had absolutely no idea what the fuck he was doing. Actually, he felt like a knob for insisting on participating. He should’ve just listened to everyone else and stayed the fuck out of this. He’d gotten carried away with himself. Well, it was too late to turn back now. He’d feel like an even bigger knob if he backed out. At least Gwen had a good reason for staying out of it. Cameron couldn’t imagine sitting at his old flat doing bugger all while everyone else was in danger. Even if they were immortal, Fish wasn’t. The man was getting married soon, for God’s sake.

When he got to the kitchen, he really had no idea whether or not he should eat something. His rumbling stomach certainly seemed keen on the idea of food but Cameron had no idea what he should eat. A meal? A light snack? He really didn’t know. His stomach gave another loud rumble and Cameron decided he shouldn’t face danger while he was hungry. He started opening cupboards and looking for light snacks. He had a small craving for pork scratchings but didn’t find any. Finally, he turned to the fridge. Ianto was nothing if not organised. He’d labeled every container with a name and date. Cameron couldn’t believe how many there were. The dates went back for nearly a week. Unfortunately, not a single container was his. He felt badly, but he grabbed one with Gwen’s name on it. He tipped the contents into a bowl and put it into the microwave. 

While he waited for the food to finish heating, he started looking for something to drink. There were a few bottles of water and cans of soda. Even though he was nervous, he was still groggy from lack of sleep. He reached for the soda, hoping the caffeine and sugar would help him wake up but wouldn’t be enough to make him jittery. He popped the top and drank deeply. The microwave beeped and he took out the bowl, stirring the food. The left over Indian wasn’t as spicy as he normally liked, but it was satisfying. Gwen would likely never miss it. After craning his neck for Ianto, he hopped up onto the counter so he could sit while he ate. The Welshman would probably tell him off for doing something so improper. 

By the time he’d eaten most of the food, he heard the sound of footsteps. Fish and Henry were coming up the north stairs. The sight of the two lovers didn’t make him feel any more at ease. In fact, it made him feel worse. It was almost like a sense of foreboding or impending doom. The sight of a spectacularly large love bite on Fish’s neck distracted him from his nerves. With the exception of Miranda - who was probably better off without that colossal bell end, whatever his name was - there was a lot of love in the Hub. Actually, Cameron wasn’t sure whether or not he was envious that everyone was in love or the fact that they were all getting laid. _Getting laid, probably_ … he thought, wryly. He let out a chuckle into his food. He looked up when he heard Fish’s voice. 

“Could you at least suggest a song from _after_ I was born?” Fish asked. He saw Cameron staring at his neck and blushed. He shifted the collar of his t-shirt, trying to cover the bruise but it shifted back. He gave Henry a bit of an angry glare. 

His lover muttered an amused apology and then said, “You like jazz.” 

“To relax at home. That doesn’t mean I want it for our first dance,” Fish insisted. He tried to shift his collar again but failed to cover the blemish so he gave up. He was certain Jack would have something to say about it. 

Cameron lifted his bowl higher, trying to disappear into it. He did not want them to draw him into a conversation about this subject. During university and medical school, it’d nothing but shagging. It’d been all about who was shagging who and who’d hooked up with this person last week or who wasn’t shagging who anymore. The strangest bit of it was that all that sex, sex, sex, had somehow morphed into genuine relationships. Once graduation was in sight, everyone had suddenly started becoming engaged. He’d been inundated with it really. At first, he’d found being dragged into the planning quite horrifying but then he’d realised what the true horror was - attending the weddings themselves. All those people? All those relatives? Trying to think of perfectly normal things to say to perfectly normal people? The dancing? Good Lord, the dancing?! Cameron could feel his blood pressure rising just thinking about it. In fact, he needed to stop thinking about it because it was adding to his anxiety levels. 

“I think it’s too soon for us to be picking music. We don’t even have a date yet,” Fish protested. Without missing a beat, he turned his attention to Cameron and asked, “Have a good kip?” 

Cameron shrugged in response. “Closed my eyes for a while. Couldn’t really sleep though. Probably sleep like the dead when this is all over with.” 

“Jack’ll give us a day or two off afterwards. He always does when we push this hard,” Fish said. He opened up the fridge and began sorting through his own containers. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a box from the bake shop pushed back on the countertop. Ianto always kept some jammy doughnuts for Jack but maybe… if he was lucky… _Ooooh…_ Nestled in the doughnuts and the Welsh cakes was one of his favourite apple pastries. When faced with potentially life threatening situations, Fish’s motto was to eat dessert first. He waited for Henry to say something but no objection to his choice came. Nosy, he looked at the food in Cameron’s bowl. “Is that Gwen’s? Cameron. Rule number one. Don’t steal food from a pregnant woman. You could’ve eaten something of mine.”

He blushed and said, “I picked something dated late. It was headed for the rubbish bin soon.” 

Henry started to fix himself a cup of tea. While he waited for the kettle to boil, he returned to the subject of wedding plans. “We don’t require much time to plan if we keep it small and simple, as I believe you’d mentioned was your preference.” 

Since he was unable to escape the subject, Fish said, “I don’t want it as small Jack and Ianto’s but I don’t want to invite a hundred people either.”

The pastry felt a bit stale so he put it into the microwave for a few seconds. He took it out and bit into it, flakes cascading down his shirt. He brushed them aside as Henry poured the water over his tea. He dunked the bag up and down and then added some honey. As he stirred it into the mug, he said, “I was thinking perhaps early in the summer.” 

“Bit soon isn’t it?” Fish said, taking another bit of pastry. “That’s middle of term for Anna. She’s a teacher, Henry.” 

Henry frowned at the fact that Fish was speaking with his mouth full. He teased, “You’re picking up Jack’s poor manners.” 

Fish’s only reply to the comment was a roll of his eyes. After Henry finished fiddling with his tea, he blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. He asked, “You don’t think they’ll be able to make the trip?”

“Wild fucking horses couldn’t stop my sister and her family from being there. She wouldn’t say anything to us, but I know she’d rather the kids not miss school. Peter’s not doing well. Skiving off a lot.” He licked a bit of frosting from his lip. 

They were both still talking as if Cameron wasn’t there, and he was happy they were leaving him out of the conversation. He was half eavesdropping but mostly trying to tune out the mundane and normal subject. He half heard something about flowers and a joke about Henry possibly requiring royal permission to marry. It was so normal. Two people in love were discussing their wedding… right before a genetically engineered super soldier from the future was going to stumble into a trap set at the secret underground base so they could execute him. 

Suddenly, the enormity of what they were all about to do hit him. What if he cocked something up? What if he froze? What if… What if… The questions ran through his mind like a tornado and Cameron felt sick to his stomach. He dropped his bowl into the sink and it broke. The sound made Henry and Fish look up. Cameron bolted across the Hub for the toilet. For a second time that day, it had the contents of someone’s stomach heaved into it. 

Miranda was coming up from the north stairs. Just as she entered the main Hub, she saw Henry and Fish in the kitchen. Fish craned his neck and jerked his head towards the closed door. He gave a subtle shake of his head. Miranda stood outside the door, waiting for the muffled retching to stop. She knocked lightly. 

“Cameron?” she asked, delicately.

He thought about telling her to bugger off and leave him be. He was so completely mortified, he wanted to flush himself down the toilet along with the sick. He heaved again, bringing up more of the food. 

He took a deep breath and said, weakly, “Aye…” 

Miranda, being Miranda, took that as invitation to enter. She found Cameron kneeling in front of the toilet, the lid and seat in his hand. He had his eyes closed and was breathing through his teeth trying to keep his gut under control. It was a few minutes before he trusted his mouth enough to speak again. 

“You’re not going to let me do this now, are you?” he asked. He spat into the toilet. He lowered the lid and turned, sitting down heavily on the tile. 

She leaned over him, pushing the lever to flush it. She turned the tap, filling a small plastic cup for him. He stood up on wobbly feeling legs, taking the cup from her. He rinsed his mouth and spat into the sink. Hunched over, his mind went into overdrive. He tried to think of all the ways he could convince Miranda that this was just a bit of first time nerves. He knew he was ready. He knew he could handle it. He planned out an entire speech all in his head. 

Just as he was about to open his mouth, in a flat tone, she said, “If we didn’t think you could do this, Cam, you’d be in hospital wondering why you couldn’t remember the past few years of your life.” 

 _Well that’s perspective for you…_ Somehow the confidence made him feel simultaneously better and worse at the same time. He didn’t want to disappoint them or himself. He refilled the small paper cup again. He swished the water in his mouth, trying to clear the odd fuzzy feeling from his teeth.

“I can do this,” he said, straightening up. 

“We know,” she replied. 

He crushed the cup and binned it. He walked out into the main Hub. He was about to turn towards the armoury when he saw Henry sitting at Ianto’s workstation. He rubbed at his nose and cleared his throat into his hand, hoping he didn’t smell like sick. Henry wasn’t facing him as he approached. He saw a pistol disassembled in front of him. Before Cameron could open his mouth, Henry began to assemble it as fast as he could. Surprised, he couldn’t manage to time him before he’d finished. 

“You should’ve had me time you,” he said.

“That wasn’t the point of the exercise,” Henry said. He turned around with the gun in his hands.  

“Well, Jack certainly doesn’t have to worry about you not being trained up,” he replied and let out a small laugh. “You a copper?” 

Henry popped the round from the chamber and latched the safety. He gave Cameron a wry smile and said, “I’m an artist, a painter.” 

“Well, there’s my foot in my mouth,” Cameron muttered. He reached across Henry and slowly began to disassemble the parts as Gwen had showed him. He laid the pieces out and then turned to Henry. “I wanted to apologise… for before.” 

“That was nothing of which to be ashamed.” 

“Aye, having a boak in the toilet, very courageous,” Cameron muttered, wryly. 

Henry looked up, checking that Fish was still out of sight and out of earshot. He clasped his hands in front of him. “When The Great War began, I volunteered to serve.” He started picking under one of his nails. He muttered, “The war to end all wars.” He cleared his throat. “I found I was… ill suited for war. The trenches were a dangerous place. It was only a matter of time before I was killed. Burial was problematic on the front lines. Sometimes bodies were left for some time before being collected. After I revived, I deserted.” 

“Hardly desertion when you’ve already been killed in action.” Cameron had tried to joke but his voice had a nervous edge to it and the joke fell flat. 

Henry swiveled in his chair away from Cameron. He carefully turned each piece of the gun in his hands and began to slowly reassemble it as he spoke. “I had no plan or clear course of action. I just wanted to put as much distance between myself and the battlefield as possible. I was still in my ruined uniform. I hadn’t gotten far when I realised that I had emerged from the mass gave when others had not - when others _could_ not.” Cameron swore he saw Henry’s hands tremor as he reached for the edge of the table. He pushed himself away from his task, the gun was only half assembled. “I realised I had a duty to perform. I was uniquely qualified to protect others. I returned to act as human shield to those around me. And when war came again, I volunteered to take up that mantle, again. But I was no more suited to war than I had been twenty years before. The memories of those years are a heavy burden.” He turned back around to finish assembling the gun.  

“Now, you’re here to protect Joe.” 

Even though it wasn’t a question, Henry nodded. “Once the wars were over, I hoped to never take up arms again but now I assist Torchwood whenever I can.” 

Cameron asked, “Why not become a proper field agent?” 

“Torchwood is not my calling but that does not mean I cannot help where and when I am able.” Henry pushed the magazine into place. He gave Cameron a serious look. “Do not be so hard on yourself. When you became a doctor, did others tell you that you would become accustomed to death and loss?” 

Cameron shook his head in response. “No, they said when it did, that was when you should worry.” 

“The strangeness of this place? It’s enough to paralyse most. The oddity of Torchwood takes everything you deem sensible and up ends it,” he said. He waved towards the loo over his shoulder. “You do not become accustomed to it. You mustn’t allow Torchwood to consume you, to let your normal life drift.” 

“Thanks, Henry.” Cameron smiled even though Henry couldn’t see him. He started to tally all the strange information he’d assimilated over the past few days in his head. It really was like he’d been plummeted down a rabbit hole or into the middle of some bizarre dream. Henry was right. He needed to keep a healthy perspective. 

“Are you any good?” Cameron asked. 

The question surprised Henry. He turned the gun in his hands. “I’m a fair shot, yes. Joe is better.” 

“No, your art,” he said. 

Henry let out a laugh. He walked over to the printer and opened the paper tray. After dragging Fish’s chair over, he patted the seat and said, “Well, you shall have to be the judge of that.” 

Cameron sat perfectly still as Henry drew. He started to feel self conscious, sitting there under such scrutiny. Fish walked over, holding the guns and utility belts that he’d taken from the armoury for the three of them. He gave Henry a kiss on the cheek, examining the hastily done drawing. He looked back and forth, between it and Cameron, smiling. 

“How long’s he been at it?” he asked. 

“Five? Ten minutes, maybe,” Cameron replied.  

“Portraiture is not my forte, Joe,” Henry scolded, covering the paper with his hand. 

“I don’t know why you keep saying that,” Fish said, laughing a bit. He snatched the paper from him and turned it to face Cameron. 

“That’s brilliant,” he said. He stood up and took the clipboard from Fish. 

“I wasn’t quite finished with it yet,” Henry gently scolded. He took the clipboard back and Cameron sat back down. Fish sat behind Henry. Watching his fiancé draw and paint was one of his favourite pastimes. 

Down in the Hub, the world was above them, like wispy clouds moving unnoticed. It was easy to forget about it. As Henry continued to draw, Cameron decided that living downstairs would have to be a temporary arrangement. This place felt like home, but he had a tendency to get swept up in things. His volunteering for this tactical operation was case in point. Torchwood certainly was a whirlpool, trying to suck him down. He needed something away from here. The minute all this was over and he had some free time, he’d find a proper flat. 

Cameron had nearly forgotten that Henry was drawing him. He was just watching Fish watch Henry, enjoying the loving smile on Fish’s face. Cameron finally understood the little bits of normalcy that the team held onto so fiercely. It helped to keep them all grounded. 

They’d all managed to distract themselves that none of them heard Jack’s office door. 

All three of them jumped when Jack said, loudly, “Fish? Time to beat the grass.”


	16. Chapter 16

Cameron twisted his head. The night vision goggles were uncomfortable and the band was starting to itch a bit. He didn’t need the goggles to see the light glow of Fish’s PDA. Now that it’d all started, the nervous anticipation had eased. What made him nervous now was his tendency to overthink and he had nothing but his thoughts to occupy him. He thought the plan was flawed but hadn’t wanted to say that. How would this soldier know to penetrate the underground base? How would he know where the entrances to the Hub were? How would he even know the water tower had the equipment he needed? How would he know how to use the equipment when he found it? To Cameron, they were assuming so much and it was slowly becoming clear to him that, most of the time, Torchwood did things off the cuff. Cameron wondered how they managed. 

When Fish had turned off the dampening field and the lights had gone out, Cameron had been ramped up on sugar, caffeine and adrenaline but, standing in the dark, waiting, was wearing him down. In between his mind rabbiting on were periods of absolute boredom. The mental roller coaster was causing him to hit some sort of wall. He’d pushed down Ianto’s offers of a thermos but the Welshman had insisted. Now, he was glad for it. He walked over towards the raised ladder where Ianto had left it. He unscrewed the top and his spirit fell a bit. It was filled with coffee. Cameron was never one for coffee. In fact, he hated the stuff. He certainly didn’t understand why people spent ridiculous amounts of money at Starbucks. Plain coffee was bad enough but those sugar laden, oddly flavored concoctions? Cameron had always preferred tea. 

He shook the thermos a bit, trying to figure out if it was black or had any milk. It looked a bit on the milky side, but it was hard to tell with the night vision goggles. Since it was all he had, he might as well deal with it. Everyone raved about Ianto’s coffee but Cameron figured they were all the coffee sort. He set aside his disappointment with a sigh and drank. _Holy shit_ …His eyes went wide. He was expecting to have to force it down but it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, even though the thermos had gone tepid, it was pretty damned good. Ianto may just have made him a convert. He smiled and screwed the top back on to save the rest. It wouldn’t do to get himself all jittery again only to crash… again. _Eh, one more sip_ , he thought, unscrewing the top again. He took a large sip - what really could’ve been more of a small gulp - and then put the thermos down next to the railing at his feet. 

It was so still and dark in the Hub. Cameron had seen it in night mode but this was different. Every emergency light was out and the place was pitch black. Had it not been for the goggles on his face, he wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. He swiveled his head, seeing Fish on the lower walkway near the hothouse. The technician had his goggles up on his head and was staring, intently, at his PDA’s screen. Occasionally, he took a wandering step to the left or right. It was the only noise aside from the sound of running water. Cameron smiled as Fish scratched at his head and rubbed at his neck. Fish was watching for the outer door breach alert. There was a nervous sort of fidgeting to the way he was pacing. Cameron was glad he wasn’t alone in that feeling. 

He wanted to know how everyone was getting on but Jack had asked for radio silence so Cameron couldn’t check on the others. He assumed that the immortals were in place, hiding and waiting. He paced a little, trying to keep moving. He’d known there’d be some waiting but he hadn’t expected hours. He wished he had someone to talk to or some way to pass the time other than his own thoughts. It wasn’t like he could read a magazine or play some sort of game on his mobile. He needed to stay alert and at the ready. He was impatient and he wished that this would just start already. 

Suddenly his PDA vibrated in his pocket. It was the signal. _Fuck! Be careful what you wish for…_ He took the PDA out and put his goggles on his head. He saw the red dot on the screen. The soldier had taken the archive entrance. Cameron grinned. Ianto owed him ten quid. He heard tapping on metal and he looked over to Fish. He was gesturing for him to get down. 

“Shit, sorry,” Cameron said in a loud whisper. 

Fish put one finger to his lips and Cameron resisted the urge to apologise again. _Aye, cocking things up already, aren’t you._ He obediently shut up, crouched down and waited. He continued to watch the PDA’s screen, watching the soldier’s advance through the archive tunnels and then up past the cells. He turned his PDA off and slipped it into his pocket. The whole point was that he not see the team at all and the PDA’s screen was like a gigantic spotlight on his position. Cameron could feel his heart begin to pound. He looked about but couldn’t see a think. _Bugger,_ he inwardly groaned.He put the night vision goggles back on. A nervous sweat had popped out over his body and he tried his best to keep from panting. All he could hear was the water trickling and his own breath. His palms felt cold and clammy. He kept a good grip on the gun. He looked at it, making sure it was the gun with the conventional bullets. It was. He’d checked a couple times now while he’d waited but he couldn’t stop rechecking. He looked towards the east stairs but still saw nothing. He examined the gun in his hands again. _Will you calm the fuck down_ … he told himself. 

He took a deep breath and swallowed. He kept his eyes trained on the east stairs. That was when he saw him. He was dressed in some sort of jumpsuit and helmet with visor. _Nice fucking helmet, you didn’t have that before_ … He thought, ruefully. The jumpsuit had pockets all over it and there was a rucksack on his back. _Fucker’s quiet_ … If Cameron hadn’t seen him, he wouldn’t have known he was there. The soldier was checking the small screen of a device strapped to his forearm. He was heading for the water tower but he was taking a slightly round about way. 

They’d left the Hub in a fair state of disarray to hinder him. It was working. Cameron watched as he rolled chairs out of the way and stepped over random boxes. _How the fuck is he seeing anything?!_ he wondered. The darkness wasn’t handicapping him much. He was moving very, very slowly but he wasn’t bumping into anything or stumbling. He was crouched low, moving through the desks and tables with relative ease. It fascinated Cameron. Of course? Why wouldn’t the creators of this soldier have tampered with his hearing and sight? His mind started to wonder about what this soldier’s other senses were like. He chastised himself for letting his mind wander. He’d lost sight of the soldier. _Focus…_ Cameron shifted, trying to see his teammates. 

Cameron watched as the four immortals moved into the room, shutting the door to the east stairs behind them as slowly and quietly as they could. He couldn’t hear any noise and it appeared the soldier hadn’t heard the door shut either. If he had heard anything, he didn’t look concerned with it. He looked over to Fish who was crouched completely still at his own vantage point. He had his gun aimed at the soldier, following him with it. He wondered if Fish shouldn’t try to shoot. The visor looked quite flimsy. A well placed head shot and this would all be over but he had no way to communicate the suggestion. The soldier was certainly unaware but if Fish missed or if the helmet deflected the shot, it would put everyone below in terrible danger. 

 _Chain of command…_ he told himself. It wasn’t his place to make decisions, it was Jack’s. This was the plan and they needed to stick to it. He may have had his doubts but it was working. He was creeping along the walkway. _Nearly there… c’mon, you bastard…_ A sly smile crossed his face. Watching it all come together so well was satisfying. The soldier had realised the water tower was his goal. Cameron could see him tapping at the metal device on his wrist. He knelt at its base, slowly opening the rucksack. Cameron had been right again. There was more in that pack than food and medical supplies. He took out a piece of equipment, scanning the tower. The immortals were moving into position, trying to surround the soldier before he was electrocuted. 

Curious about the display, Cameron shifted his position again. He moved forward, trying to get a look at the screen and that was when his foot hit the thermos next to the railing. It skid against the metal walkway, teetering back and forth. Time slowed down to a crawl. The thermos tipped back and forth. The liquid sloshing inside made it tip further and further. Cameron’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. He inhaled a startled gasp as the thermos didn’t tip back but kept leaning. It hit the metal walkway with a slight clang. The soldier brought his head up at the noise. Cameron swore under this breath as the thermos rolled. He tried to dive for it but his fingers hit the side instead of grasping it. The thermos rolled off the edge. He winced, bracing himself for the noise. It hit the ground with a bang and a rattle that echoed through the cavernous room. 

Jack’s voice immediately came over the comms. He hissed, “Eyes and lights!”

Cameron slammed his eyes shut a second too late and they watered from the blinding flash into his goggles. He ripped them off as gunfire erupted in the Hub. He fell to the walkway with one arm thrown across his eyes and the other across his head. 

What the fuck had he done?


	17. Chapter 17

Cameron immediately tried to open his eyes, but they watered and he slammed them shut again. The gunfire was around him and some ricocheting bullets hit the walkway. He could hear the sounds of shouting, firing weapons. He cracked his eyes open. The tears blurred his vision but he stood up with his gun anyway. He looked down over the railing at the chaos. He had no idea how it’d happened but Jack was already down. He was laying flat on his back, a pool of blood collecting around his neck. 

Miranda was retreating backwards in the tower’s direction. One of her legs was broken or dislocated. Her foot was turned in impossible direction. The soldier was walking towards her with a knife in his hand. It looked like one of the small knives Miranda usually kept strapped to her leg. Providing a distraction, Henry was firing his weapon at the soldier at every opportunity. He’d positioned himself in front of the stairs leading to his fiancé. Fish was still on the catwalk, also firing his weapon at the soldier. 

The best shot on the team, Fish didn’t miss. Cameron saw that the gun he was using was now the one with the neurotoxin bullets. His other gun was discarded at his feet. Cameron couldn’t believe it. There were several center of mass shots and a large gash in his jumpsuit where he assumed Miranda’s knife had been. There was no bleeding. The soldier hadn’t stopped. He must be wearing some sort of body armour! The jumpsuit looked like normal clothing. The armour wasn’t restrictive or bulky in any way but it was effective. Even the bullets aimed for his arms and legs did nothing, lodging themselves in the armour instead of the soldier. 

Just then Cameron remembered his own gun. _Fuck_. He took a deep breath and recited Gwen’s lesson in his head. He pointed and fired. The soldier was completely oblivious to the bullets flying towards him. Cameron wasn’t a good shot. He figured if he couldn’t have quality, he’d at least go for quantity and emptied his entire magazine. One of his missed shots ricocheted off the concrete and caught Ianto in the chest. The immortal man went down as Cameron cursed himself. He reached for the neurotoxin gun and fumbled it. The gun falling down beside the thermos and a string of barely understandable expletives flew out of Cameron’s mouth. 

It wasn’t long before Henry was out of ammunition and he too switched to the neurotoxin gun. Cameron predicted what happened next as if it was from a bad film. The soldier was so close to Miranda, it was inevitable. One of his neurotoxin bullets grazed her, lodging in her arm. She let out a startled yelp and fell backwards. The veins began to pop out on her head as her face reddened. She let out a painful scream and Cameron wanted to clamp his hands over his ears to block it out. He leaned over the railing just in time to see Miranda convulsing on the walkway. He turned away from the sight and found the soldier again. He was walking towards Fish and Henry. The two of them were firing carefully, trying to hit the unexposed areas of the hands or the joints in the jumpsuit. 

Cameron couldn’t tell which one of them had done it, but someone had managed to land a shot through his wrist. Jack may have said they can withstand pain but the guy let out a painful growl. He staggered back holding his wrist, trying to stop the bleeding. They waited. Miranda was already dead. It wouldn’t be long before this soldier collapsed. Cameron was about to breathe a sigh of relief but the soldier angrily continued to advance on his two friends. The realisation dawned on him very quickly. Not only was he wearing body armour from head to toe, he was also immune to the neurotoxin. Things were going from bad to worse and Cameron couldn’t watch from his place of safety any longer.

This was all his fucking fault! If he hadn’t knocked over that fucking thermos, none of this would’ve happened! The terrified monologue in his head continued… _WHAT DO I DO?…WHAT DO I DO?…WHAT DO I DO?…_ He grabbed fistfuls of his hair. He had no idea what to do. His gun was empty and the other was on the floor. He had no hand to hand combat training. He’d only had one weapons lesson with Gwen. All he was doing was standing on this stupid fucking catwalk watching this soldier walk towards his friends! 

Henry was standing between the soldier and Fish, his gun raised protectively even though he was out of ammunition. The soldier would kill Henry and then Fish would be next and unlike Henry, there would be no coming back for him. There’d be no wedding day… There’d be no first dance, no feeding each other cake… 

_No… No… NO…. NO!_

That wasn’t going to happen. Not if Cameron could help it. He wasn’t going to stay all the way the fuck up here and just watch while this soldier killed his friends. He might not be trained up but he’d be a lot more use down there than he was up here. He bolted for the ladder release. He kicked it and it rattled. 

“C’mon! C’mon! You! STUPID! PIECE! OF SHITE!” he shouted, punctuating each word with a sharp kick. 

It gave way and the ladder fell with a jerk. He’d only seen this done in the movies. He grabbed the ladder and set his feet onto the outside. He prayed it wasn’t some sort of ridiculous stunt with wires as he let go with his hands. The metal scraped against his palms and he gripped with the inside of his feet. He hit the ground hard, collapsing backwards. _Now, there’s a loss of dignity_ … he though to himself. _Sense of humour in the face of death, that’s got to count for something._ He looked around the the closest weapon was Jack’s. He crawled on all fours to Jack’s twisted body ignoring his scraped and bloody hands. 

Cameron swallowed at the sight. Jack’s larynx was torn from his body. There was nothing but a ruined mess, like someone had gouged out his throat with a fucking ice cream scoop. He could do nothing for Jack and he quickly told himself he didn’t need to. He focused on his task. Cameron pried at Jack’s fingers for his Webley. 

Henry pushed Fish backwards as he launched himself at the soldier, trying to fling them towards the water tower. Desperate, Henry managed to land a few punches and a good solid kick before the soldier grabbed his head. He twisted Henry around, his head under his arm. He brought the point of his elbow straight down onto Henry's back between his shoulder blades. 

Cameron’s hands shook as he opened the chamber… _Two rounds_ … Just as he completed the thought, the sickening crack of Henry’s spine breaking reached his ears. He looked up just in time to see the soldier toss Henry aside like a rag doll. He started to advance on Fish, who’s gun was also empty. 

Cameron raised revolver and took careful aim. He fired. He’d been aiming for the back of the neck but his shot was low. The body armour stopped that bullet but it was enough to startle him for a second. The shot also startled Fish, who took cover against Cameron’s poor aim. Cameron took a deep breath and fired again. This time the bullet went wide, lodging in the shoulder. The soldier stopped, gripping his arm. Out of sheer luck, the bullet had found a juncture in the armour and had hit flesh. Blood trickled down the arm. It was the same arm with the wounded wrist. 

Fish was about to take the opportunity, leap up and attack. In that instant, Cameron understood what had probably happened to the Torchwood dead slumbering beneath his feet. They’d done exactly what he was about to do. It was something you could call incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Cameron looked at the soldier and then the water tower to his left. He leapt to his feet. He sprinted forward, grabbing the back of the soldier's uniform with both of his fists. With an angry snarl and a sudden burst of adrenaline fueled strength, he hauled the man backwards away from his friend. He flung him, sending him sprawling to the metal and then turned. 

If Cameron had stopped to think, he might have been afraid, but he wasn’t. Joseph Fischer wasn’t going to miss his wedding day. Not if he could help it. 

He looked at Fish and said, “Dance at your wedding for me, Joe.”

"CAMERON!" Fish screamed. “NO! DON’T!” 

With all the force he could muster, Cameron launched himself at the now standing soldier. As his shoulder impacted the soldier’s chest, he twisted one hand the jumpsuit and the other around the injured wrist. He curled his fingers into the gunshot wound as the soldier yelped in pain. He held on with every ounce of strength as he propelled them both into the water tower. Somehow, he managed to let go of the jumpsuit and grip some wiring before the current slammed through them both and he lost control of his muscles. There was no convulsing. The current locked the two of them in place and they stood like rigid statues. Sparks flew and the lights in the Hub went on and off. 

Desperate to save his friend, Fish got to his feet and bolted forward but skidded to a halt. There was no way he’d managed to grab hold of Cameron without injuring himself. Blood was starting to trickle out of Cameron’s ears and Fish could smell burning flesh. He turned, running for the circuit breakers. He flipped the one attached to the water tower’s current and Cameron and the soldier flopped down. Fish ran back to the tower, he grabbed Cameron out of the water, dragging him onto the walkway. He ignored the soldier entirely. 

“EVIE!” he screamed but there was no answer. “JACK! IANTO! HENRY! ANYBODY! HELP! _HELP!”_  

It was no use. Fish was the only one alive. He laid Cameron out on his back, straightening his legs and arms. He wasn’t breathing. Fish reached for his neck. There was no pulse. He fought down the frantic desperation rising in his gut. 

“Okay… okay…” he muttered to himself. He shook the water out of his eyes and tilted Cameron’s head back. “Airway…” 

They all had CPR training, Miranda retaught them every year. With three immortals on the team, Fish had never thought he’d have a reason to use it. He tried to recall the steps in his head, he tried to stay calm but his hands shook. After pinching Cameron’s nose, he sealed his lips against his and blew twice, watching as his chest rose and then fell. He sat up, shaking more water from his hair. He planted the heel of his hand in the middle of Cameron’s chest and then put his other hand on top of it. He locked his elbows and pushed. “Compress five centimeters…” 

He pushed, counting in his head while the ridiculous Bee Gees song ‘Stayin Alive’ looped in his head. _Twenty nine… Thirty…_ He stopped, sealing his lips against Cameron’s again. He blew twice. He started another round of chest compressions. He continued, round and round in the same circle. He had no idea how long he’d been at it. It could have been a minute or five or twenty. It felt like hours. He pushed his body past its limits. His arms felt like jelly. His wrists and elbows ached. His back threatened to go into spasms every few seconds. His hair was dripping wet but it wasn’t just water from the tower. Now, it was a mixture of sweat and tears. He just kept pounding on Cameron’s chest and filling his lungs with air, spitting out the bloody fluid that was coming from Cameron’s mouth. He didn’t even hear Ianto gasp to life. 

Ianto rolled, coughing slightly. The pain and terror of reviving was too familiar to him at this point but it still took him a few seconds to recover. Every inch of his skin felt like it was on fire. He pushed himself up onto all fours. As was usual when he revived, something in him kept telling him to move. He crawled on all fours in a random direction, his arms and legs shaky. He looked around, coming to his senses. He rolled, sitting down with his knees bent. He put his hand to his chest where the bullet had entered, rubbing even though there was no wound or even scar. The Hub was oddly silent… except for the sound of huffing. 

He looked up to see Fish hunched over. Ianto saw the locked elbows and the rhythmic jabbing of his body. Droplets of sweat dripped off Fish’s blonde hair and each time he pressed down, the drops flew up, then rained down. His face was bright red from effort. He looked exhausted, on the verge of passing out. It took Ianto a minute to remember which members of the team would require CPR and one of them was the one performing it. The other… 

“Oh God…” he said. His eyes flicked up to the catwalk by Myfanwy’s perch. The ladder was dropped. He shouted, scrambling to his feet, “Cameron!”

He ran to Fish’s side to take over the chest compressions but stopped the moment he caught sight of Cameron’s prone form. His eyes were glassy and empty. His lips were blue and bloody fluid was seeping from the corners of his mouth. There was also blood around his ears and nostrils. One of the whites of his eyes was filled with blood as well. That was when Ianto noticed the smell that turned his stomach. The acrid odor of burned flesh hung around Cameron’s body. Ianto’s own eyes began to burn as the tears rose up. Ianto saw the soldier laying dead by the water tower. It must have taken Ianto at least ten or fifteen minutes to revive from the ricochet bullet wound. There was nothing they could do. 

Cameron was gone. 

Ianto dropped beside Fish and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

“Fish…” 

“Take over for me Ianto… my arms…” he begged. 

“Fish… Stop…” 

“No, we can save him…” 

“Fish… He’s gone…” his voice began to break. 

“Ianto! Please!” 

“Fish! He’s dead!” Ianto shouted, his words cracking. He grabbed Fish by the arms, pulling him away.

Fish let out a wail of anger and grief. For a moment, he gave into it, settling into Ianto’s arms as he cried. Suddenly, in a fit of rage, he yanked himself out of Ianto’s grasp, shoving his friend aside. 

“No! No, he’s not dying here… NO! No… not yet…” Fish said, continuing to pound at Cameron’s chest. 

Ianto grabbed him again, shouting in his ear, “Joe! Leave him be!” 

Again, Fish yanked himself out of Ianto’s arms. He shoved Ianto hard, the immortal man falling back against the floor. He leaned forward, shouting into Cameron’s face. Trying to propel his words into the beyond, Fish screamed so loudly his voice cracked and his throat hurt. 

“YOU STUPID FUCKING SODDING BASTARD!” He grabbed Cameron’s shirt and started shaking the body. Fish’s face was still red and streaked with tears. His nose ran and the force of his screams flung spittle across Cameron’s body. “WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO FUCKING STUPID! _WHY?!_ _WHY?!_ YOU WERE FUCKING SAFE UP THERE! YOU WERE FUCKING SAFE!” He raised his fist and brought it down onto Cameron’s still chest. “YOU SHOULD’VE FUCKING LET HIM HAVE ME! _WHY?! WHY?!_ WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?! YOU STUPID… Stupid… stupid… fucking…” 

Fish trailed off, choking on his own tears. He fell forward, gurgling sobs wracking his body as he weakly pounded his fist on Cameron’s chest. He finally gripped the sodden shirt as hard as his weakened muscles would allow and gave himself over to the grief. 


	18. Chapter 18

Miranda rolled the sheet up, covering Cameron’s body. She roughly tossed the instruments back into their tray. She took them over to the sink and ran the water over them. The autopsy was clear. The current had done fatal damage to Cameron’s heart and lungs. There had been nothing Fish could’ve done. Even if the others had been alive and Cameron had received immediate medical attention, this would still have been the outcome. To everyone, the postmortem findings were irrelevant. Team losses were always rough but this one was hitting them all particularly hard. 

Once they’d cleared away the mess, Jack had taken on the difficult task of ringing Gwen to let her know what had happened. The former PC was devastated and the rest of the team wasn’t taking it any better. After that gut wrenching phone call, Jack had gone up to the roof. Fish had wanted to help with Cameron’s things but he’d injured his elbows, back and shoulders trying to revive the Scotsman. Miranda had tried to examine his injuries and treat them but Fish had gone into some mad rant about a proper funeral service. She’d slipped the Australian a strong sedative in his anti-inflammatory medicine and Henry had taken him own to put him to bed. Her former student had also gone home with his own sedatives. 

Cameron MacDonald was Torchwood’s shortest serving operative, having served only forty three hours, but that didn’t mean Torchwood wasn’t treating him as one of their own. Ever efficient and capable, Ianto was the one packing away Cameron’s meager belongings for storage. He was cushioning his grief with his professionalism. 

Miranda put more water into the bowl of instruments. She leaned heavily on the edge. She’d met many people in her life and she wouldn’t be forgetting Cameron any time soon. He’d been a good man who had deserved a longer and better life than this. Immortality was the ultimate study in survivor’s guilt. She liked to think she was used to this but she really wasn’t. Loss didn’t get easier as time went on, it got harder because there was simply more of it. And an immortal knew the losses would never end. 

First, Captain Hart had vanished in the night. Now, Cameron was dead. Superstitious, Miranda expected one more blow. Such tragedy always comes in groups of three. She ripped the mask from her face and then gripped the disposable gown, tearing and ripping at the cloth-like paper. Instead of tossing them into the biohazard bin, she threw them into the sink on top of the water filled bowl containing the soaking bloody instruments. The light items didn’t make a sound. Wholly unsatisfied with the silence, Miranda kicked her chair and it toppled. She turned, kicking the rolling instrument tray. The metal went flying, landing by the stairs with such force, the frame bent. She turned around, uttering an ancient curse. She swore at every god or goddess she’d ever heard about in her entire life. She planted her hands on the edge of the sink and stared down into it. The gown and gloves were floating on top of the bloody water. As she watched, the pink coloured water that had beaded up onto the items began to seep into it. As the water spread, the blood trailed along with it. The capillary action created pink patterns, like some kind of twisted child’s amusement. She closed her eyes. A deep pressure blossomed between her temples and the next thing she heard was the sound of dress shoes on the tile. 

“I’m sorry, I made more of a mess, Ifan,” she said, not looking up. 

“Sod the mess, Mandy,” Ianto said, waving at her sword. “I’m more concerned you didn’t have that at the ready.” 

He bent down and picked up the instrument tray. After determining it would no longer stand on its own, he pushed it out of the way. He turned and looked at the autopsy table. “Shall I take him down then?” 

Miranda opened the drawer with the tags. A pang went through her as she saw that Ianto had already cut notches of varying shapes into the red and green coloured tags to work around Cameron’s colourblindness. Likely, Ianto would continue to do so from now on even though Cameron was no longer with them. _A homage…_ She took out the light blue tag. 

“You want me to put the body on hold in the cold storage?” he asked, confused. 

He hadn’t witnessed Fish’s outburst. She didn’t look up and said, “Fish wants a service of some sort when we inter him.” 

Ianto just raised his eyebrows in response. He said nothing and accepted the tag from her. He didn’t see the harm in a small service even if it wasn’t Torchwood tradition. This was the first team loss that Fish had had to endure. He took out a white gown from the cupboard. 

She turned away from the sink and asked, “Do you need-”

“I’ve got it,” he said, tersely. 

Miranda nodded and walked over to the desk. She looked down at Cameron’s freshly carved initials. She picked up her sword and then left the autopsy bay, leaving Ianto to dress Cameron’s body alone. She leaned her sword against her desk in the main Hub. It didn’t take her long to type up her reports. 

Ianto knocked lightly on the desk. “Can I get you anything before I turn in?” 

He looked waxy. His eyes were a bit blood shot and had dark circles under them. He should eat and drink something but Miranda didn’t offer the advice. Without looking up, she push the stack of reports towards him. “If you could drop these on Jack’s desk on your way to the bunker, Ifan.” 

He nodded but didn’t pick the papers up from the desk. He took off his suit jacket and leaned against her desk. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. 

She read his mind and said, “Do you want me to say something cliche about how it’ll get easier?” 

“You’d just be lying. People said shit like that to me after Lisa. Hurts just the same as it did then. I just think about it less often and that makes it hurt more, truth be told.” He lowered his voice slightly and said, “And then there’s the new hurt that one day I may stop thinking about her all together because… because I won’t be able to remember anything anymore.” 

“You’ll always remember something about her,” Miranda said and then she admitted, “but the things you’ll want to remember will be the things you’ll forget first.” 

He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. “I appreciate you not sugar coating it for me.” 

The remark hadn’t been sarcastic but frank and genuine. She gave him a small smile. “I always give my students the truth, Ifan.”

He quirked one corner of his mouth. He undid his tie, leaving it draped around his neck. Even in the dressed down state, he sounded quite official when he said, “I’ve taken the liberty of speaking with Martha Jones. She and Mickey will be arriving within a fortnight.” 

She still didn’t look up at him and he knocked on the desk. Everyone had been tiptoeing around Miranda, but he knew that was more for their benefit than for hers. No one ever talked about Hart except for Gwen. The man had become their own personal Voldemort; he-who-must-not-be-named. “I’m not stupid, Mandy. I know the reason why you pushed Jack to hire Cam instead of just ringing Martha.” 

“And what is that, Ifan?” Miranda replied with a sarcastic snap. 

Unafraid of her venom, Ianto said, “Hart.” He took her lack of response as a confirmation of his suspicions. “The reason you need a holiday is just a long list of names. And we both know his name is at the top of that list.” He jerked his head towards the morgue. “And who’s name you just added.”

Miranda looked towards the morgue. “He reminded me of Gabe,” she said, quietly. “They were both so eager to please, so unsure of themselves. They both had more worth than they realised.” 

“We do a lot, Mandy, but we can’t save everyone.” Ianto wished it wasn’t true. He wished that he or Miranda or Jack or Henry could be there at every moment of every day. He wished they could react fast enough and always be at the right place at the right time. But that wasn’t reality. It wasn’t even fucking close. They did their best but, in real life, sometimes your best simply wasn’t good enough. He bowed his head and said, quietly, “I’m going to miss him.” 

“Me too.” She stood up and picked up her sword. 

Without looking up, she reached over and put her hand on top of his. She traced his wedding ring. “Jack will need you,” she said, softly. Even though neither of them would believe it, she said, “I won’t be gone long.” 

Ianto watched her walk away not really knowing when he’d ever see her again. Even though she was already down the north stairs, he said aloud to no one, “‘Long’ is relative, Mandy.”


	19. Chapter 19

Usually, Ianto interred the Torchwood dead alone. He sorted the paperwork. He filled out the death certificates. He cleaned the bodies, dressing them in the traditional white gown. He selected a drawer and laid them to rest without fanfare or ceremony. It was what Torchwood had always done when one of their own died. They trivialised death because it was normal for them. It happened and then they cracked on. But Fish insisted that that needed to change. He couldn’t bear the thought of Cameron shut up into a morgue drawer without so much as word even if he hadn’t been with them long. He couldn’t bear the thought of that happening to any of them. They gave too much and Cameron had given everything. It was one thing for the world to spin on without ever knowing that Torchwood gave their lives for them, it was another thing for Torchwood itself to not acknowledge that ultimate sacrifice. 

So the team was gathered in a semicircle around the open drawer Ianto had selected for Cameron, their heads bowed. No one really knew what to do or what to say. They’d never done this before. The drawer was labeled with his name and its number but below it hung Henry’s drawing in a small glass frame. Even though Rhys had never met the Scot, he was standing next to Gwen, supporting his wife as she silently cried. Jack and Ianto had their arms around each other’s waists. Henry was just as devastated as the team, tears streaming down his face as he clung to Fish, his arm around his shoulders. Miranda was standing next to Gwen, aloof and aside from the others. Fish had thought she might sing something but she was silent.  

Cameron was laying in the body bag. The bag wasn’t zipped. He was dressed in his white gown. When Fish’s father had died, he’d hated the wake. He’d felt as if his father’s body was nothing more than a powdered and primped doll, put on display like a macabre joke. What he’d hated even more was how the people around him had said how alive or good his father had looked. The worst? Were the people who’d said it’d looked like his father was merely sleeping. How did you get closure when you were tricked into thinking the person was still alive? After his father’s funeral, he’d had nightmares for weeks. It had always been the same. His father’s corpse would sit up in the coffin loudly shouting at everyone around him that he was alive not dead. The wake would continue on, everyone talking in hushed whispers while Fish frantically tried to get them all to notice his father was alive. Sometimes he still had the dream. 

Unlike at a funeral home, Cameron’s body hadn’t been prepared for viewing. He wasn’t in his best suit. There was no embalming or makeup to hide the gruesome and disturbing features of death. Cameron’s face still had a ghostly pallor and his mouth was partly open. Fish could see the livor mortis, the purplish discoloration the settling of blood caused, halfway down Cameron’s neck and face. His closed eyes looked slightly flattened. It was strange how used to corpses Fish had become. He felt that this provided more closure than the mannequin-like appearance of the body at open casket viewings. What was in front of them here was nothing more than an empty husk. There was a strange feeling in Fish’s bones. He felt like he was being watched; Cameron’s soul was lingering.  

Fish felt angry tears begin to well up in him. Cameron was dead and he was alive. What greater value did his life have? Why should Cameron die and he got to live? Why would this young, vibrant person throw his life away for him? The unfairness of the whole thing made Fish want to scream and rage at the universe. How could he ever repay such a sacrifice? The weight of what Cameron had done for him was crushing. It was a debt he could never repay in full. How could he even begin to try? _Dance at your wedding for me, Joe…_ Could it be that simple? Probably not, but it was a start. He squeezed Henry’s hand. He would live. 

Since they’d all been standing in front of the open drawer for several minutes and no one had said anything, Ianto stepped forward. He zipped the bag shut and started to close the drawer. With the drawer closed and locked, the team dispersed but Fish stepped forward, pulling Henry with him. He cleared his throat and they all turned to look at him. Joseph Fischer had a quotation for everything and he certainly wasn’t going to be without one at the funeral of the man who saved his life. 

“‘I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy, in England which I shall see no more….’” 

He’d intended to speak for Cameron but, suddenly, it felt like he was speaking to every soul interred along side him. Fish looked around, from drawer to drawer. 

“‘I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence…’”

Jack stepped forward with Ianto’s hand in his own. As Fish spoke, each of the others joined in, one by one. 

“‘It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.’” 

Fish bowed his head. He held onto Henry’s hand hard and said, softly to himself, “Goodbye, Cameron. And thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many of my regular readers will know that I don't post a story until I'm mostly finished with it because if there's one thing that drives me nuts is reading a story that doesn't have an ending. I'm always one to preach that you never know what life will throw at you and it had dealt me and my family a horrible curve ball. 
> 
> Last week, my younger brother, at the way too young age of 19, was in a fatal car accident (and since one of my personal coping mechanisms is joking and black humor... People, please, for fuck's sake, wear your seatbelts). 
> 
> Due to this tragedy, I am uncertain of the path my writing will take. I have posted Cameron's story in its entirety because I cannot, in good conscience, commit myself to regularly uploading chapters. The last three chapters of this story are also probably a disaster since the subject is simply too painful for me to proofread at the moment. 
> 
> I feel the need to apologize for killing off such a lovable character. The story has given me so much trouble because it was something I didn't want to do but for some unexplainable reason felt compelled to do (crazy I know).


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